The Night Watch
by hoodie622
Summary: Set between 2x10 and 2x11. There is a woman from Locksley in trouble and Marian wants to help. Can she befriend this woman and help? How is the woman’s past intertwined with hers? Romance, bickering, adventure, politics, and backstory…all to be found here
1. Prelude

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Prelude

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Freedom. Her hero's disguise offered freedom, though it placed her in great danger. But the danger created a thrill, and the thrill instilled an amazing sense of freedom. For some, danger and freedom might seem strange bedfellows, but they were Marian's closest companions, and they created in her a sense of importance and relevance which helped to define her existence and which she refused to relinquish, despite her lover's persistent requests. The thrill was at its greatest on an evening such as this—climbing upon the rooftops of Nottingham on a clear, moonlit summer's eve. The full moon made it easy for her to find her way, while the deep shadows it created made excellent hiding places.

After visiting the villages, she was flying over the western wall, the least guarded this time of night. But on this night there was one guard who was not where he was supposed to be. Perhaps sneaking in and out was beginning to come too easily. Perhaps she had become complacent in her sensory awareness. Perhaps she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but whatever the reason a weapon came down hard across her shoulders and she soon felt the stone, still radiating the heat of the day, pressed against her cheek, and a strong, piercing force on her spine.

Her next conscious memory was blood…everywhere…on her hands, on her clothing. She watched as it swirled and danced and discolored the water in the basin. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until the skin around her nails began to turn pink and irritated. She stuffed the trousers, jacket, hood and cape beneath her bed and donning her nightclothes, curled her knees to her chest and rocked herself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 1 Midnight Meeting

**Before I begin this chapter, I must send a HUGE thank you to my betas, Marji and Jas! They have been patient and kind with their time and suggestions. I couldn't have done this without you ladies. Thanks so much!**

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Chapter 1

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Four Days Earlier…

He heard her voice through the door. "Please, Guy, it has been a long day for everyone. I should like to retire."

"Very well." He could hear the dejection in Gisborne's voice and he could not help but gloat to himself, knowing that the woman Gisborne wanted loved him. "My offer still stands," Gisborne added.

Marian stepped inside her castle room, sighing as she lowered the latch. She had never been so relieved to be out from under the gaze of Sir Guy. He had pulled her along with him all evening in the vain hope that she might still answer his question in the affirmative. Luckily, Sheriff Vaysey had been quite angry to find Nottingham in such disarray upon his absence and had been lecturing Gisborne about efficiency of government all evening. As horrible as listening to Vaysey's lecture was, she was glad that it kept Sir Guy occupied until such time that she could excuse herself, having been able to avoid any further awkwardness.

She pulled her Nightwatchman's clothing from the cupboard and began to unbuckle the front of her dress when a voice from a darkened corner of the room startled her.

"Do you need some help with that?"

Marian ran toward the darkness and flung herself at the shadowed figure, wrapping her legs about his waist and her arms about his neck as she kissed him. She had not expected that their first meeting since parting in the tree would be in Guy's presence or under such strange circumstances. Escape had been on her mind all evening.

"Careful, careful," Robin warned through his laughter, "you will get my forest muck all over your lovely green dress."

"How did you get in?" She made no effort to disguise the excitement in her voice.

"Oh, you know me," he winked, "I can walk through walls."

"Robin of Locksley, the rest of England may assign you magical abilities, but I am very well aware of your fault-filled humanity." She smiled as she set her feet back to the floor, finding that she did indeed have muck on her dress. "Yes, a bath for both you _and_ your clothing seems in order. So, how _did_ you get in?"

"The guards are tired from searching about Nottingham for the Sheriff," he flashed her a devilish grin. "They were sleeping."

"You must have had a long day as well," she bit her lower lip and twisted the string of his tunic around her finger, "and yet you were not too tired to evade them."

"It is not difficult to evade sleeping men, Marian. A sleeping beauty, on the other hand, is impossible to resist." He pulled her tightly to him and his voice became soft and sweet, "I had to see you. It was like torture…seeing you and not being able to touch you or show any sign that I care for you at all." He noticed her Nightwatchman clothes were upon the bed, "Marian, where were you going?"

The flush in her face revealed her desire to see him.

He smiled, despite his anger that she was planning to continue the Nightwatchman from within the castle walls. But that issue could be addressed at another time. At the moment, she was mesmerising.

She turned serious, pressing her forehead to his, "You saved Nottingham today."

"It was close."

"But you did. I knew you could." She ran her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck.

"How on earth did you convince Gisborne to meet with me?"

"I can be very persuasive."

He let out laugh that was half an acknowledgement of her statement and half frustration at the events of the day. "We almost lost the Pact today." He rested his hands at her hips.

"Oh?"

"The Sheriff managed to disguise himself as a sick peasant and trick John into taking him to camp."

"The Sheriff knows where the camp is?"

"No. He was blind-folded, but still."

"Do you think he can find it again?"

"No. But we need to change a few of the drop points."

As they continued to stand with heads pressed together, Robin sighed. The largest frustration of the day had not been finding the Sheriff in camp, or dealing with John's costly insubordination, or listening to Much go on and on about the 'Sherwood Avenger.' Being forced to leave Marian's safety in someone else's hands, despite his faith in Will, had put an ache in his heart. Although she was now standing safely in his arms, the feeling had not quite dissipated. "Come back to the forest," he breathed his barely audible request as he ran his fingers along the neckline of her gown, somehow hoping that his soft tone would change her answer from what he knew it would be.

"I cannot."

"Please, Marian. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do, Robin. We must know their plans and this is the best way."

"Surely there must be another."

"Surely Nottingham would have been razed to the ground today if I had not been here to fetch you."

"Surely."

She kissed him gently, "Thank you for saving us."

"Saving _you_ was Will's job."

"And he completed it admirably, though I would not yield to him."

"So I heard."

"What did he tell you?"

"That you refused to leave the people."

"Would you expect any different of me?"

"No," exasperation filled his voice.

"Is that all that Will said?"

"Why is there more?" He asked with suspicion.

Marian paused, hoping that Will had spared him the details he would not like. "No, nothing more."

Robin stepped away and leaned against the bedpost, "Does 'nothing more' include three proposals from Gisborne?"

Marian kept her back to him, "Yes. All of which I refused, well, except for the third."

"Oh?"

"You came before I could answer." She smiled and stepped toward him but he recoiled from her.

"And what would that answer have been?" He found himself too tired to rationally overcome the jealousy, though it would spark an argument it seemed they'd had a thousand times.

"You _still _do not trust me!"

"No, I do not trust Gisborne."

"Robin, after everything that has happened how can you possibly still question me! Trust me, Guy will not harm me."

"Marian, the man thought nothing of traveling two thousand miles to kill his own King! He has murdered countless others here."

"Yes, he has."

"I cannot possibly understand how you see any good in him."

"He wants power, Robin, and position."

"And you," Robin scowled.

Marian acknowledged him, "And me, but trust me, Robin. He came back today for me and as soon as he can be made to realise that the Sheriff is not the best way to achieve his aims, his loyalty will falter."

"And just how do you propose to convince him of that?!"

She looked at the floor.

"Marian! The man thinks that you might still be his wife, and if he finds out that…" He could not finish the sentence, still plagued by doubt and disbelief in her promise. Robin moved to sit on the edge of the bed, "Marian if he finds out he _will_ kill you."

"He will not."

"You are naïve to think that."

"Naïve?" Her offense was obvious.

"Yes, naïve. You are very capable of driving a man to madness, you know," he chided her then spoke in earnest. "I think that you can see good in nearly anyone or any situation."

"I make no such attempt for the Sheriff." She heard him chuckle and moved to stand in front of him. "I do not love him, Robin. I could not love him." She added quietly, "My heart was stolen long ago by a foolish boy with a bow."

Robin gave an impish grin. His hands instinctively rose to grip her waist and he leaned his forehead against her breast, "I told Much today."

"About the engagement?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

"I'm not sure he knew what to say. He kept rambling on about being the 'Sherwood Avenger' and being back on a mission together."

"Like in the Holy Land?"

"Yes. Sometimes…" He could not finish. When Much spoke, it seemed as though time and distance had fogged his memories of the horror. Robin exhaled into Marian's stomach.

Though she was running her fingers through his hair Marian could sense a loss of contact, a distance. "Robin?" She moved to sit beside him.

When his hands lost their resting place, Robin turned them over from back to palm and then clenched them before dropping them in his lap, as if they and not he were responsible for the deaths now running through his mind. "Do you think it is possible for a man who has done as much killing as Gisborne to be admitted into heaven, if he spends the rest of his life in atonement for his crimes?"

Marian gently opened his fingers and pressed his palm to hers, noticing that an entire joint of his fingers stuck past the end of hers and smiling as she remembered how she used to make the same comparison when they were children. It was one of the first things that had cued her to his impending manhood…how large his hands had become. But there were merely echoes of the boy she knew in the man before her. She ran a finger over the peaks and valleys of his knuckles, dry and cracking from a life in Sherwood. His hands had always been soft before, the hands of a nobleman. An honorable nobleman, but one untested by the trials of life. Now, they were the hands of an outlaw, an archer, a hero…and a soul wounded by war. "Tell me, Robin."

"No."

"Tell me…please," her voice was soft and encouraging.

He stood and stepped away. So it was with them – one moment they seemed so close as to be inseparable and then one or the other would assemble a barrier and they were instantly miles apart.

She moved toward him, "You are not a murderer, Robin."

He remained turned so that she could not see his face. Still, she could hear the strain in is voice when he whispered to himself, "Oh, but I am." He turned but refused to look at her, glancing instead over the top of her head. He kissed her on the forehead and took a final deep breath, filling his memory with her scent. "Be careful, My Love."

Before Marian could say anything he was gone, through the very unmagical door.

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A/N: My Beta tells me that there is a _Prince of Thieves_ reference in this chapter, though it is completely unintentional. I have not seen that move in more than a decade. Thanks again, Jassy!


	3. Chapter 2 Our Village

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Chapter 2

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_Nottinghamshire, 1185_

_She was besotted. Plain and simple. Besotted by a simultaneously charming yet thoroughly aggravating young man from whom a simple nod of recognition was enough to make her insides tumble. But it was the less frequent "hello" and the even less frequent smile – the impish smile that seemed to exude arrogance and shyness at once – that genuinely caused her knees to buckle. True, she had known him all her life. They'd run through the village together as children on countless occasions, hiding and giggling, chasing and tagging. But how does one persuade another to take notice that something has changed? How does one convince a friend that something more awaits? How does a woman convince a man that perhaps she is more willing than he believes, without exiting the boundaries of propriety? Would exiting those boundaries be so terrible? After all, what are boundaries? Are they guidelines passed from God to his people for their benefit or His? Surely God did not intend for something as limitless as love to know boundaries. And surely the feelings she felt rise within her at the mere thought of him were not the work of Lucifer – for they stemmed from this most limitless of emotions. No, she decided, love is as an arrow, flying across time and space, that always finds its target – whether the target knows it or not. But how to get the target to notice…_

Locksley Village, 1193

The beatings hurt more when he wore his uniform. Metal chinking was so much harder than knuckles.

Feeling her oldest approach her as she dipped the rag in the bucket and began to dab, Sally ordered in a whisper, "Go back to sleep!" She looked over at the baby in her cradle. The coolness of the water soothed the throbbing at her temple and stung the open skin at the split in her lip. She could hear a dog barking in the distance, and a _maaah_ as the goat stirred in the yard. There was a thud against the doorframe and she turned. Involuntarily, she held her breath and tensed the muscles in her body in preparation, convinced her husband had returned for a bit more 'fun' before his nighttime shift at the castle. "Go back to sleep!" she shooed Joseph once again to his pallet, praying that a sleeping child was a protected child.

But her husband had not returned and the night once again fell silent. Looking up through the window, she noticed the silhouette of a man's cape as he crossed the beams of moonlight, dropping sacks at several doorways in Locksley. She released the breath she'd been holding. With reticence, she exited the shadows of her home and peered into the yard to find a small sack.

Marian was sickened at the sight of Sally in the home's entrance. Quietly, she approached. As she did, she could not help but notice the severity of the bruises and cuts. They'd not spoken in years, but she'd known Sally all her life. Sally was Robin's age and her family had been in Locksley for three generations. As children they had run amuck in Locksley village, jumping through fences and hiding behind huts, until they reached the age at which the boundaries of society dictated that nobles begin acting as nobles and peasants as peasants.

Unfortunately, Sally had married a second son from Nettlestone who turned out to be a drunkard or, as it appeared now, even worse. Digging through her bag, Marian found a tin of salve and held it out for the woman.

"Thank you, Nightwatchman," Sally replied, staring into his eyes that seemed remarkably soft and understanding.

Marian lingered for a moment, longer than was safe, really. Unable to speak, she simply gave the woman's hand a gentle squeeze before turning and disappearing into the night.

Once safely in the cover of the forest, Marian slumped down against a tree. "If I were Lady Locksley, that would not be allowed to happen," she cursed at the sky, as if she might will God to change the situation from what it was.

"If Lord Locksley were present, then his Lady would have no need to slink about in dangerous places."

Marian was instantly on her feet upon recognizing his voice. "Robin! What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? It is my village."

She stood, waiting for the lecture she knew was coming. The argument was inevitable…

"What, might I ask, are _you_ doing here?" he began.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Does no one need help in other villages?"

"Locksley seems in greater need, as of late. Gisborne is being particularly harsh for one reason or another."

"Pfff," Robin released a laugh laced with disgust, "does he need a reason?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Is something wrong at Sally's?"

Apparently the lecture was on hold for a moment. "Yes. Her drunkard of a husband beats her."

"What? How long has that been happening?"

Marian shook her head, "A few years now, I think. But I've never seen her this bad before."

"I should never have given permission for that match."

"You could not have known, Robin."

"No, but he had a reputation for the enjoyment of drink and I had the feeling he was a bad apple." He paused and then reasoned, "But it was the first marriage I had occasion to approve in my new position, and I didn't want to disappoint the people. Nigel assured me that he loved her, and Sally deserved to be married." He looked at Marian with a contrite smile.

Robin so rarely spoke of the past, and Marian wondered if perhaps they might actually be able to enjoy this rare and precious time together. She offered a solution. "Her husband is a guard at the castle. I watched him leave for the night shift. Perhaps you might _warn_ him on his way home in the morning?"

Robin nodded, feeling helpless to change Sally's situation. Awkward silence fell upon them again. Marian knew that he was angry because she was sneaking out of the castle and Robin knew that she was not going to listen if he scolded her. Still, even if she was not going to listen, he felt obliged to say it.

"Speaking of warnings…" he began.

"Here it comes!"

"Here what comes?"

"The lecture? The scolding?"

He stood in silence, with a knowing laughter shaking his torso, well aware of how disconcerting it was to her when he refused to speak what she knew was on his mind.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Go on then. Scold me. Tell me that I should not be sneaking out of the castle…that the Nightwatchman is too dangerous…that there is no need."

"You said it, not me."

Marian turned her back. "Robin, we've had this conversation before. It is to be my village, too. They are my people too."

"I know," he said as he moved closer and wrapped his arms around from behind her, dipping his lips to her ear, "and there could never be a finer Lady Locksley." He attempted to turn her.

"Argh," she ducked under his arm, "if you think you can scold me and kiss me at the same time, then you don't know me very well."

"I am not scolding you."

"Oh no?"

"No. You are scolding yourself."

She let out a growl of frustration through her teeth and raised her hands in the air as if she were strangling him.

"Marian!" Robin's tone was angry, though his volume remained hushed, "Right now Gisborne lives in our house and it is too dangerous for you to be here. Go to Nettlestone or Clun. I'll take care of Locksley and Knighton."

She would not look at him. He had said 'our' house and she refused to allow him to see the glint of satisfaction that placed on her face. "You would prefer I visited none of them."

"That is true."

She rolled her eyes and huffed past him.

Grabbing her arm, he continued, "But I know that is never going to happen."

"I cared for these people when you abandoned them!"

She yanked her arm from his grip. He raised his in the air in frustration.

"Great," he mused, "here we go again. Have you not heard me say many times that I regret leaving?"

"Robin, I am not going to stop helping the poor."

"I am not asking you to stop! Is there no room for compromise here?"

"Like?"

"Like…the Nightwatchman continues, but _not_ in Locksley."

Her silence indicated that perhaps the compromise was acceptable.

"Marian," He moved to place his hands at her waist, despite her earlier resistance. "Can you so easily forget what happened the last time the Nightwatchman was caught here?"

She noticed his hand on her abdomen and nodded her head in recognition. Dipping her head to his shoulder, she was about to allow her full weight to fall into him and treasure the rare opportunity to be with him…when he spoke.

"If you love me, you will stop this."

She glared at him.

"What? You said it, why can't I?"

"I was trying to stop you from killing your friend!"

"My friend," he muttered under his breath. "And now I am asking you to stop driving me mad with worry."

"Mad with worry? Mad with worry! Unbelievable!" She charged into the forest. "Don't you dare follow me, Robin."

_How is it that everything I say is wrong?_ He stood for a moment, dumbfounded as to how a fortunate and precious nighttime meeting had graduated to an argument. He allowed her space, but of course, he did follow. He followed her all the way to Nottingham and watched as she climbed the roofs and scaled the castle wall with ease and grace. "That's my girl," he smiled to himself. But once again, that night, he did not sleep.

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Sally was finally managing to fall asleep when she heard a voice at the rear window of the hut.

"Psst! Sally?"

She rose, remaining in the shadows, and immediately recognized the hooded figure, silhouetted by the moon.

"It's alright," he said, "come out of the shadows. Let me see you."

She followed his command, chin bowed to her chest, shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Sally had always been feisty and outspoken, but as Robin stared at her she seemed broken and changed. "Monster," was the only word that emanated from his lips. She allowed him to reach through the window and raise her chin with his finger. "Sally, I am sorry that I was away when this began, but now I am here to stop it. This will _never_ happen again. Do you hear me? You are under my protection now, he will not harm you any longer."

His eyes, fully black in the diminished light, conveyed an intensity of purpose that she did not remember in the youth she had known. She gave a nod but did not speak.

"One of my men will come to check on you soon." He patted her cheek and turned to go.

"Robin," her voice was a whisper, "how did you know?"

"I am Robin Hood," he winked, "I have people everywhere."


	4. Chapter 3 Lands, Dresses, and Ale

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Chapter 3

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Having not slept at all, and noticing the faintest shimmer at her open window, Marian rose from bed, dressed, and climbed the winding, narrow stairs to the battlements. The stars still shone brightly in the western sky, but the eastern horizon had donned a faint, jeweled glow. From here, the highest point for miles, she could see Locksley, Nettlestone, Clun, and a charred, black spot where Knighton Hall once stood. Walking along the northern wall, she followed the Great North Road as it disappeared into Sherwood. Tracing it with her finger, she moved the tip a few inches to the right, figuring that must be about where the camp would be. She put the finger to her lips and kissed it, then held it up in the early morning breeze.

How strange, this mix of darkness and light. While for many the dawning of the day represented new opportunities and second chances, for Marian the twilight was bittersweet. It was the change from the world she wanted to the one in which she found herself. It separated her dreams from her reality. It separated the time when she could be herself and do as she pleased from the time when she must act according to others' expectations. Only in the forest had she come to love this time, when she would awaken to find that her dreams and reality matched and turned to find her sleeping lover beside her.

Her thoughts were disturbed by familiar voices.

"Well, that sun marks the end of shift for me."

"Back to the wife, eh?"

"Nah, I'll stop at the pub for a pint and poke first," the guard bragged, using his fists to mockingly punch Allan. "Join me?"

Allan thought of accepting but then turned and made eye contact with Marian, shaking her head in disapproval. "Another time, my friend, another time," he offered, patting the guard on the back in the way men do. He soon joined her looking out over the forest, wishing for the awkwardness to pass.

"You're up early," she said nonchalantly, turning her attention from the shire to him. He scrunched his face in a way that made her realise he'd not been to sleep. "Does that man, per chance, live in Locksley?" Marian asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know?

"I recognized his voice," she replied, her statement full of scorn.

Allan looked confused.

"I heard him, last night, beating his wife."

Allan's eyes grew large. Nigel seemed a decent bloke.

"He was done by the time I arrived or I would have stopped it."

"You were at Locksley last night?" he asked with grin on his face and a bit of mischief in his eye.

She gave him a little slap on the side of the head, "Allan-a-dale, you forget to whom you are speaking."

"Sorry."

"I was there as the Nightwatchman."

"The Nightwatchman! Marian, are you mad?"

"Don't even start."

"What?"

"You sound like Robin."

"Well, if Robin knew what you were doing, he'd put you under lock and key, he would!"

"Well, he _does_ know, and I'm sure nothing would please him more," she snapped, as if speaking to Robin rather than to Allan.

Allan turned, leaning against the battlements with his elbows in the notched guardpoint. "Nah, come on Maz, he's just worried 'bout ya is all."

"Oh yes, apparently I drive him mad with worry!"

"Now, you're being a bit unreasonable, aren't ya?"

"Me! Unreasonable! He is the unreasonable one!"

"Well, I can't argue with you there," Allan cringed, remembering the recent occasions when Robin's knife had been at his throat. "When it comes to you that man is incapable of any reasonable thought." He paused, then continued in a more carefully-chosen tone, "But it does drive him mad, Marian, the idea that you are where he cannot protect you. I've seen it. "

"Eh….I'm sorry, where is Allan, and what have you done with him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Since when do you care about Robin?"

"Hey now, I'm just sayin'…I understand."

"Oh really? It seems to me that you only worry about you."

"Fair enough." The truth in the statement stung a bit. "Except when I was in the gang, of course."

Marian shook her head in something resembling condemnation.

"But I do know what it's like to be close to someone and then lose that person because of my own actions. I'm sure Robin feels the same."

"Fool," she shook her head, amused by the idea that Robin _still_ thought he might lose her.

Allan continued, "Look, Djaq's in love with Will right?"

Marian nodded. "It appears so," she confirmed.

"And Djaq is an amazing woman," he tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact.

"Yes, she is," a knowing smile crossed her face as she realized it was Djaq about whom Allan had been speaking.

"And I can guarantee that if you ask him, Will would tell you that he doesn't know what he possibly did to deserve her."

"She loves him, what more does he need to know?"

Allan shrugged. "Look, Marian, all I'm saying is that men are insecure, alright. And Robin is no different."

He watched as the glint returned to her eyes. The same sparkle that Robin got when he suddenly had a plan of action. Suddenly, she kissed him on the cheek.

"I believe somewhere inside you, you are a good man, Allan-a-Dale. Thank you."

He cocked half a smile and shrugged, glad to find someone who still believed in him and yet reeling with the echo of the last time he'd heard those words. She ran from the battlements and he was sure of where she was headed. Sherwood. Allan had never really had a home, and he hadn't realized that Sherwood felt like one until he wasn't there anymore. He stared at it, bright and green under the now fully-risen sun, and for the first time since he'd left, he allowed his eyes to well as he remembered the Saracen woman with the raven hair.

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Marian scurried down the uneven castle stairs to the main corridor outside the great hall. She turned and headed for the gates. As if a horse being pulled by the reins, she abruptly halted and stopped short of running into Guy.

"Marian!" He seemed surprised to see her.

"Guy," She acknowledged him and forced a smile, "you are here early."

"Yes, well, we are expecting a messenger today with a declaration from Prince John for the Council of Nobles."

"A declaration. What of?"

"Of lands."

"Lands?"

"Yes," he gave a sniff of pride, "I am to be granted the lands of Knighton."

"Those are _my_ lands! Guy?"

"No. When you disappeared the Sheriff convinced Prince John to strip them from your family."

_How dare he!_ She fought hard to hold her temper. "But…"

He moved toward her, "But, I managed to convince the Sheriff of my hope that one day, our lands will be combined, and so he is granting them to me."

He was standing too close for comfort and trailing his fingers down her arm. She was simultaneously irate and shocked, unsure of what to do. There _was_ nothing to be done, really. Surely Guy thought that he was doing her a favor by ensuring that it was he and not another Black Knight who would be in control of the lands, but the thought sickened her. She placed her hand on his and stopped it running up and down her arm. To him, it was a gesture of thanks but in fact she was retaking control and preventing herself from cringing. She patted his hand, offered a faint smile and turned to walk away.

"Marian?"

"Yes?"

"Might you consider joining me this evening for supper at Locksley in celebration?"

It was the third time he had asked since her return. She needed to agree at some point, lest he question that he was the reason for her return. She supposed this was as good a time as any. At least it would give her the opportunity to check on Sally. "That would be fine, Guy."

"Fine. Good." He suddenly seemed unsure of himself. He awkwardly raised her hand to his lips. "I will escort you after the Council meets. Will you be ready?"

It seemed that a hasty visit to Sherwood would have to wait. "Yes."

"Fine. Good," he repeated. "Milady," he acknowledged her with a sideways smirk and a small bow of his head and continued on his way.

Marian steadied and calmed her thoughts. _When the King returns,_ she sighed, _they will be mine again._ She wondered how many times Robin had said those same words. Glancing at her bare left hand, she saw the shining green emerald in her mind, _Ours._ Devastated, she felt an even stronger urge to visit Sherwood but then cursed herself for allowing her _need_ to distract her from the mission at hand – Nigel at the pub. Refocused, she headed into town.

There were two pubs in Nottingham and only one was more famous as a house of ill-repute, so she headed toward the _Cherry 'n Tart_.

The singular pleasing aspect of her returning to the castle (other than the ability to bathe) was that she was able to enter Nottinghamtown as she pleased without a guard or disguise. The improved situation made it easier for the gang to spot her and made information exchange almost too simple.

With the _Cherry_ in sight, she suddenly felt a tug on her arm as she was yanked into an alley. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the coming kiss and cheeky line about what a beautiful woman was doing in this part of town.

"Marian?"

"Much!" She should have known it was not Robin. Robin had a much smoother way of sweeping her from the street, sliding an arm about her waist and spinning her into a dark corner or a clothmaker's stall. "Where is Robin?"

"Finishing deliveries in Clun."

"Oh."

"Any news?"

Tears for her beloved Knighton fought to rise to the surface for a moment, but it was not difficult to fight them. After many years of practice, she had learned to control her emotions at will. There should be no tears, she decided, for a situation she could not change. "No, there is no news," she hedged.

"Robin will come this afternoon."

"Tell him that I cannot meet him."

"He'll be disappointed. Why?"

"If you must know, I am attending dinner…at Locksley…with Sir Guy."

"Maybe I'll just tell him that you are not feeling well."

"No Much. Then he will worry."

"Which is worse, worry or jealousy? Either way, I'm the one who has to deal with him all evening."

She could not help but giggle.

"That is _not_ funny!"

"Oh, Much." She patted him on the cheek. "Just tell him that I love him, would you, and that I am fine." She quickly returned to her mission.

"Yeah, I'll tell him," Much mumbled to himself. "It won't do any good, but I'll tell him."

---------------

Marian donned her hood. She absolutely could not be seen snooping about the exterior of a whorehouse. The windows were as scenes from a play, each unfolding with suspense and surprise. Scene one – a group of travelers down from Leeds, off to seek fortunes in London. Would they find it, or would only misery await them? Scene two – a man cursing his drinking mate upon losing his pay in a bet. Would he now be thrown in the dungeon for nonpayment of taxes? Scene three – an avoidable tragedy. "Rebecca, you should know better. You cannot work for ten days after you stop bleeding!" The moans and cries emanating from the upperstory windows told stories of an entirely different kind. Marian crouched along the wall, trying with difficulty to shut her ears to the disconcerting sounds. In her mind she attempted to form a plan of action. Surely going inside was not safe. True, she'd been inside the _Trip_ on one occasion, but at the _Cherry_, any woman, despite her proper dress, would be seen as for the taking.

Suddenly she heard the sound of pounding footsteps approaching the rear entrance. Without time to think, she ran and jumped in an empty barrel across alley.

"Wha' do ya think you're doin'!" the manager's voice echoed. "She's got other customers! D'ya think they're goin' ta wanna pay for a girl 'at looks like 'at?" He kicked the man and took his purse, "for damages." He spat on the man, who then struggled to his knees and crawled twenty yards before passing out in the alley.

Hearing no further voices, Marian peered over the edge of the barrel and inspected her surroundings. Nigel lay in his uniform, passed out drunk, with his face in the mud. _What a bastard! Poor Sally. No wonder the family has nothing to eat if he is spending all of his money on ale and prostitutes. _As she approached him the smell of ale wafted from his body. The thought occurred to her that she should simply leave him and if he died then Sally would be the better for it. She made the sign of the cross, admonishing herself for thinking such things. _Surely he will suffocate if left like that._ She hastily turned him on his side and departed the alley.

She'd gotten about fifty paces when she realized that she could still smell the ale from him. At one hundred paces she could _still_ smell him! She continued back toward the castle. Then it donned on her – it was she that smelled of ale!

_The Barrel! _She quickly scanned the market for Much, who was handing out coins in the main square right under the noses of two guards. She smirked. The outlaws moved with such ease in Nottingham. She sometimes wondered if the gangs' disguises were truly genius or if they survived merely by the incompetence of the Sheriff's men. She ducked into a crevice in the castle wall and waited for Much to pass.

"Psst, Much!"

"Marian. I thought…" He wrinkled his face as if he'd just seen the most repulsive of sights, "You smell!"

"Go to Harrison's stall and buy me a dress."

"A dress! This money is for the poor, Marian, not for purchasing dresses for noblewomen!" He paused and sniffed again, "Why do you smell of ale?"

"No questions, Much! Just go and don't be long."

He turned to leave and then turned back, "What color?" He began a tangential thought, "Red? Black? Blue? I've always been fond of blue."

"I don't care!"

Again he turned and then hurried back, "What style? Shall it tie in the back or front? Short or dragging at the bottom? How about the sleeves?"

"Much! Something, anything, as long as it does not smell of ale!" She added, "And hurry!"

But "hurry" was not a word in Much's vocabulary and she swore half the day had passed before he returned.

He smiled as he held the garment out for her, "Blue."

She snatched the dress from his hands. "Turn around and keep watch!"

"Why?"

"Just do it!" She hastily removed her green dress and replaced it with the one Much had purchased. "Okay." She shoved her ale-smelling dress into his hands. "Wash this for me, would you? And don't let Robin see it!"

"Why?"

"Much, don't ask questions. Is John in town with you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Get some rope. There is a man in a guard's uniform at the end of the alley. Tie him up and take him to Robin. They have business to settle."

"What kind of business?"

"Please, Much, I don't have time for questions, alright. Just do as I say and take that man to Robin." She peeked from their hiding place to ensure a safe exit. "I must go," she hissed and dashed off to the castle. Now she needed to bathe before attending supper.

Much sniffed the garment in his hands and again wrinkled his nose. "You're welcome," he muttered with only the castle wall to hear him.


	5. Chapter 4 Hunting

**I'm posting this just for you, Luna12. I hope you'll enjoy it even though you may never get the ending…**

**Thanks again to Marjatta for informing me what foods were appropriate to the era.**

---------------

Chapter 4

---------------

Robin, Will and Djaq were headed to Nottingham from Clun.

"Will," Robin asked, "did the village know that Sally's husband was beating her?"

Will gave a silent nod.

"How long?"

"A few years. I was really too young to know what was happening but everyone knew."

"Why didn't anyone do anything?"

"Didn't want to make trouble with Gisborne, I guess. Her husband works at the castle."

They heard a whistle from the high road. "Will, Djaq," the leader cocked his head to the side, indicating that they were to circle and approach from the opposite side of the road. They ascended the rise to find Nigel, bound and gagged.

"Robin," called Much, "I am reliably informed that you have business with this man."

John pushed Nigel to his knees in front of Robin. After a moment of slight confusion, Robin noticed Marian's green dress over Much's shoulder and then understood the meaning of the words "reliably informed."

"Business?" Robin put his arms in the air, and turned himself around once as if he had no idea what Much was speaking about. He then snapped around and planted his knee firmly in Nigel's chest. "What business could I possibly have with this wife-beating, drunken scum?"

"Mmmmmm," Nigel struggled to talk through his gag. He wriggled and rocked his shoulders, attempting to break free.

"John, it appears that the _scum_ has something to say. Shall we hear his excuse?"

"Hold still," John told him, clenching Nigel's shoulder with his broad hand to still the man. Much removed the gag.

"I have no business with you, Hood," he taunted the outlaw.

Robin grabbed him by the chainmail, lifting him to his feet and slamming his back against a tree. Nigel attempted to kick Robin in the legs, but Djaq instantly had her sword at his throat. Putting a forearm across the man's chest, Robin pulled his knife. Eyes flaming, he offered a warning, "Nigel, I may currently be outlawed, but the people of Locksley are still under my protection."

"But I _am_ the people of Locksley," Nigel's tone was now decidedly different.

"No. No, you are of Nettlestone and you _infect_ my village with your drunken, violent rages." Robin put his knife to the man's throat and spoke through his teeth, "If I _ever_ find that you have laid a hand to Sally or the children ever again, you will be a dead man. Do you understand me? She is under my protection and you are not to harm her." He stepped back and motioned for Will to cut Nigel's ropes. "Now, get out of here."

Nigel scrambled away but upon achieving something of a safe distance, turned back.

"Protection, huh? She was lucky I'd still have her after you tainted her."

Robin charged toward Nigel, but soon found Much and Will restraining him. John stepped between them, one hand on his hip, the other gripping his staff. "Go."

Nigel scampered away.

Robin shrugged himself free from Much and Will and stepped away from the group. No one dared to say anything, though even if they did dare, they'd no idea what to say. Robin never spoke of the past, and it seemed an unspoken rule that questions of such a nature were completely off limits. Instead, Will looked at Djaq. Djaq looked at John. John looked at Will. They all looked at Much, who gave a small nod to indicate the truth in Nigel's accusation.

Robin finally spoke, "Give me the dress, Much. I will take it to Marian this afternoon."

_Damnit!_ "What dress?"

"The one over your shoulder?"

"There's no dress over my shoulder." He whipped the garment behind his back.

"Much!"

The servant begrudgingly handed it over. "Alright, alright…but you were not supposed to see it. And you can't take it to her this afternoon."

"Why not?"

"Because I was supposed to wash it and because…"

"Because…"

"…because she will not be there to meet you."

"Oh," he was immediately deflated. "Why? Did something happen? Is something going on at the castle?"

"Happen? No…uh…Marian is…uh…she is not feeling well…"

"Not feeling well? Right. Djaq, come with me," he motioned for the physician to follow and turned toward Nottingham.

_Okay. That did not work as expected._ "No Robin, wait."

"What, Much?"

"She is fine. Marian is fine…aside from smelling of ale, she is fine."

"Smelling of ale?" Robin raised the dress to his nose. "Much, what is going on?"

"She cannot meet you this afternoon because she is having supper…"

Robin raised his eyebrows, waiting for more.

"…at Locksley…with Gisborne."

Their leader turned and began to jog away as he had so often of late.

"No wait! Robin! You cannot go to Locksley alone!" He began his oh-so-common, always-futile pleading.

"Yes, I can, Much," he called, continuing to jog away.

Much tried to think of any excuse, "But I have not washed the dress yet!"

The others could no longer stifle their laughter.

"What?" Much looked at them defensively.

They all turned and walked toward camp.

"What!" he asked again, clumsily following.

---------------

Robin headed through the forest toward Locksley, dress in hand. He usually managed to force thoughts of the past from his mind. He'd plenty to keep his thoughts occupied in the present and thinking of how things should have been only had ill effect. Still, Nigel's words stung, and the memories came whether he wanted them to or not.

_Locksley Manor, 1185_

_Sir Robert stared at his son across the dinner table. Robin, feeling the power of his father's gaze, focused on his pork and turnips. _

"_You were not here to help me make the rounds to the villagers today."_

_Robin continued to stare at the food in front of him, tearing a bit of bread from the loaf and dipping it in his gravy. _

_Sir Robert could not help but notice as his son attempted to hide the satisfied smirk on his face. He knew it well, having worn it many times himself. He was stern, despite a slight feeling of pride, "You will acknowledge me when I speak to you."_

_Robin mumbled without looking up, unsuccessfully hiding a grin, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."_

"_You will make the rounds tomorrow, by yourself."_

"_But Much and I are going hunting tomorrow."_

"_You already went hunting today," Sir Robert could not help himself, "and by the look on your face, you were quite successful." _

_Robin nearly choked as an entire piece of bread forced its way down his throat. He coughed, and his face turned bright red. _

_Thornton was immediately behind him, pounding him on the back. "Master Robin, are you all right?"_

_Robin began to nod, though continuing to cough. He finally managed a whisper. "I'm fine," he motioned for his wine. Once he had ceased to cough, he could feel the two older men struggling to contain their laughter. He quickly downed his entire goblet and headed to the doorway of the manor, only to see Sir Edward charging toward him on horseback. _

"_Robin," he asked as he dismounted, "have you seen Marian today?"_

"_No, sir." It wasn't a lie, he hadn't actually _seen_ her. _

"_No? She left this afternoon on her new horse, I assumed to show it to you. Have you any idea where she might be?" Sir Edward's body language indicated that he was fairly certain that Robin had something to do with his daughter's disappearance._

_By this time, Sir Robert had joined them in the yard. "Are you _sure_ you did not see her, son?" His father's tone was laced with knowing accusation. _

_It took Robin a moment to realize the implication in his father's statement. Cowering before the two older men, he began violently shaking his head. "No, Father! No!" He backed across the yard, "It wasn't her."_

"_Then why do you look so guilty?" his father asked. The two older men pursued him step for step across the grass. His father's stare was disapproving, but Edward's was glaring. _

"_I swear, Father, Sir Edward, I would never hurt her!" Robin was waving his arm in front of him and stumbling backward._

_Edward narrowed his eyes._

_Robin's backward progress was abruptly halted when he slipped backward over the edge of Locksley pond and planted his arse in the muddy shallows. The two older men burst into jolly laughter, and Robin felt as though his skin were burning from his cheekbones. "Well," he muttered, "not intentionally anyways."_

_The Sheriff looked at Lord Locksley, asking permission with his eyes to question the young Lord. Sir Robert silently granted it._

"_What happened?" Edward's words sounded like a question but were really a demand._

"_Well….Marian found…." He looked at his father with pleading eyes, begging the elder man for assistance. _

_His father made no such offer, "Son?"_

_Robin searched for the right words. "Much was supposed to be keeping watch!" He accepted a hand up from the water, but then quickly felt his father's open palm meet the side of his head in a dunce slap. "Ow! What was that for?"_

"_That was for your indiscretion. Be more careful of your reputation."_

_Robin nodded, sighed, and rubbed the side of his head all at once. "Ow!" he yelped as he felt another slap from the other side. He looked at his father. _

"That_ was for relying on _Much_ to stand guard." Father and son had reached a moment of humorous understanding, but Edward was not joining in the moment of jollity. Sir Robert stepped to the side and indicated with his hands that Robin needed to reconcile the issue with his future father-in-law. _

_Robin shuffled toward Edward, his body language begging understanding. He stammered and spoke a bit through his teeth, "Sir Edward, we are both noblemen, yes? And thus have a common understanding of...of...?" His voice cracked at the end of the question. _

_Edward, still unsure of whether or not Robin had been acting improperly with his daughter, interrogated the young man sternly. "Yes, Robin, I understand…" he said, shrinking the space between himself and the younger man so that Robin was now in his shadow. "…I understand that you have shown little consideration for your future wife!" He waited for Robin to meet his eyes before continuing, "I will not tolerate you hurting my daughter."_

"_I would never hurt her, sir!" Robin was trapped between the two elder gentlemen and the body of water behind him, though a second swim in the pond was looking more and more enticing, "and I do have consideration for her."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Well…I mean…I would never…" he took a deep breath and managed to look at Edward "…I would never try what I did today with Marian, Sir." _

"_Never?"_

"_Well, not never, I suppose…just….not yet…" This situation was getting more embarrassing by the moment._

_The Sheriff's body relaxed a bit. Since the death of Lady Kate, he had become overly protective of his only child, yet it was clear to all that a match between their households placed their families in an excellent political position. Despite his anger, it seemed his daughter's virtue remained intact, and thus Sir Edward was unwilling to upset the balance. He lightened his tone and expressed concern for his daughter's innocence, "How much did she see?"_

"_I don't know, sir, I did not notice her there. Much said that she ran away immediately." _

"_Son," his father began to speak and Robin was relieved for the change from Edward. "Have you any idea where she might be?"_

"_I've a few ideas. She normally rides along the river."_

"_You need to find her and fix this."_

"_Fix it! How?"_

"_You'll figure it out. I'm sure groveling will be involved." _

"_Groveling?"_

"_Yes, son. You will find that it is a very important skill for husbands."_

"_Yes, Sir," Robin turned to leave. _

_His father called after him, "Oh, and Robin, do not forget, you have rounds tomorrow."_

_Robin kicked a stone across the ground on his way to the stables._

"Groveling," Robin reminisced, "isn't that the truth."


	6. Chapter 5 Hiding

---------------

Chapter 5

---------------

The meal at Locksley was consumed in near silence. There had only been some mundane talk about the progress of the fields and the upcoming Midsummer's day. Sir Guy had been overly extravagant with preparations, and there was much food that would go to waste. Even Thornton and the house servants would not be able to finish it.

"Were you expecting an army, Guy?"

"Marian?"

"Well, there is so much food here for just the two of us."

"I was not sure what you liked," he said, awkwardly. The truth was that he'd sent a messenger to Locksley that morning, informing Thornton that a meal as fine as Easter supper was to be prepared.

Marian began gathering food onto her plate.

"I thought you said you were full?"

"I am." She stood with the plate.

He immediately stood as well and spoke severely, "Where are you going?"

"There is a family in need in the village. I am going to see that the children are fed."

"No Marian. Feeding peasants is not allowed. They will come to expect it." His voice changed to suspicion. "You have been at the convent. How do you know about families in my village?"

_His village!_ She ignored the comment and prepared another well-spun half-truth. "The father works in the castle. I've met him, and I know they have been struggling of late. As you know, Sir Guy, castle guards are not exactly well-paid." She flashed her finest smile.

"No, Marian. I cannot allow it."

Feminine sweetness did not seem to be working. Perhaps he would respond better to talk of business. "May I remind you, Guy, that without food they will be too sick to work. Then, come harvest time, who will gather the oats?" For good measure she leaned over the table as she spoke and watched as his gaze traveled from her eyes to her breasts and the left corner of his mouth turned upward in the way it did when he had unacceptable thoughts on his mind. "Surely you do not object to the feeding of starving children?" She'd won the point.

"Fine," he acquiesced, "but only the children."

Marian looked to Thornton, "Have you a basket?"

"Yes, Milady," the lead servant snapped his fingers. A young girl rushed to the kitchen and returned with the requested item and began to fill it with leftovers.

Marian's mind worked quickly. She needed to placate Guy a bit more. Summoning her strength, she placed a hand on his shoulder as she passed and leaned into his ear. "Thank you, Sir Guy," she whispered sweetly then turned and walked toward the village, pleased to have managed a temporary escape from the manor.

As Marian rounded the pond, basket propped at her side, she realised what a long time it had been since she'd spent any significant time in Locksley when the village was seemingly at peace. After Robin had left, her father had tended to the property—that is, until Vasey put Gisborne in charge. But she could never bring herself to go with him. The memories were too fresh, the emotions too raw. It was easier to ignore a broken heart when she avoided reminders of the one that broke it. She stopped for a moment in the middle of the village and looked around, allowing the smells to envelop her. They were so different than those of the castle. The castle was musty and damp. The high city walls blocked most of the breeze and the air donned a cloak of stench from bodies, sweat, rotted food, and dung. Here, the breeze lifted Marian's long brown hair from her shoulders and filled her nostrils with the sweetness of wheat and oats. The air was fresh and clean and never stale. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, allowing her chest to swell with air, and in her mind the village was suddenly alive with people, as it had been in childhood. The Scarlett family in the yard, Dan working on his latest project, demonstrating for young William how a tool is properly held. Jane sitting in the yard with litle Luke encircling her feet. The blacksmith pounding and clanging, sparks flying. Children running through the village, dodging behind huts, giggling and yelling. Lady Locksley on the bench in front of the manor, humming and focusing intently on her needlepoint. Famous among the noblewomen for her steady hand, she'd produced the most beautiful tapestries in the shire. Marian had often thought of how wonderful it would be to live at Locksley Manor, where she would be able to look at them daily, for she was certain that she would be making no contribution of such beautiful workmanship from her own, impatient hand. Her mind turned to Robin, making rounds, never on a horse sitting above, but instead on foot, shaking hands, smiling, and calling each person by name. She dared to allow a sigh to escape her lips. Why this sudden sense of nostalgia?

A young girl swept past her on the left, pulling her from the sweetness of memory. Marian watched as the girl darted through a fence, and behind a barrel. She peeked out.

"Shhh, Lady Marian, don't tell the boys where I am."

"Well, they will most certainly find you there!" she extended a hand to the child. "Come, I know the best hiding places in Locksley."

She led the child to Sally's yard, to the giant wooden box and flipped open the lid.

Empty. It was entirely empty. As a child, Marian had been forced to squeeze her tiny body between the many sacks of flour and oats that filled the box. One time, when she was eight years old, she had ordered Sally to put a few of the sacks _on top_ of her so that Robin and Much absolutely would not find her. But then Sally went off and forgot about her. Unable to move, she was in the box for the entire afternoon until Robin finally ascertained that she was missing.

_As fewer and fewer beams of light found their way between the slats of the box, she knew evening was approaching. Then she heard his voice, calling her. _

"_Marian! Marian, your mother is looking for you." _

_She fought every instinct to begin yelling "Help, Robin, help, I can not get out!" She could not possibly allow him the satisfaction of rescuing her. Soon enough, Robin's calls reminded Sally that she had failed to return to the box. Marian squinted as Sally removed the sacks that had been slowly compressing her ribcage. Her lungs seemed to burn as they stretched with the newly found freedom. "No Sally!" she hissed, "He hasn't found me yet! Wait until he leaves and then come back and let me out." _

"_Sally?" The box lid slammed shut. "Have you seen Marian?" _

"_No, Robin, I've not seen her." _

"_Well how am I supposed to know where she is?" Even through the sacks of grain, Marian could clearly hear his complaining. "She always goes off without telling anyone, and Sir Edward and Lady Kate always assume that I know where she is when I do not, as if I am responsible for her!" _

_Marian stifled a laugh. _

"_If you see her, would you please tell her to go home?" _

_Sally returned a few moments later and the two of them laughed and laughed before Marian gaily skipped away, celebrating her victory._

"Well get in, child," Marian motioned and slammed the top shut. She turned and leaned her backside on the box, finding that her heart was racing from the memories. She looked up to find Sally in the door of the home with a puzzled look on her face and still clearly bearing the wounds of the previous evening.

"Lady Marian?" The presence of a noble in the yard seemed so out of place that Sally forgot the obligatory bow of the head.

"Sally…uhm…the child needed a hiding place...and...well...this is one of the best I know." She offered a reminiscent smile, but by this time Sally had turned her head to the side, as if to hide her bruising in shadow, and retreated toward the house.

"Yes, well, she's welcome to hide there," Sally replied quietly in a flat voice, failing to make eye contact with her guest. "That box isn't of use for holding much else, these days." She nodded slightly, "Good day, Milady," and returned to her sewing.

"Sally…wait…" Marian reached into her basket and gathered a loaf of bread and small slab of pork. "These are remaining from our meal at the Manor. I thought perhaps…for the children."

Sally at last connected her gaze with Marian's and offered unspoken thanks. She began to extend her hand when they were interrupted.

"Mrs. Nigel! Mrs. Nigel! Have you seen Anne? We are looking for her everywhere."

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Sally's mouth and she gave a small glance toward Marian. She seemed to come alive as she spoke to the child. "No, Samuel. I've not seen her."

"If you do, tell her that we've gone home for supper."

"Supper? Has your family something to eat then?"

"Yes. Yes. The Nightwatchman visited last night. Mother has made stew with cabbage, carrots, and turnips." The boy stopped, having taken a moment to look at Sally. "Mrs. Nigel, are you alright?"

"I am fine, Samuel." She patted the boy on the head, "Run along then. If I see Anne, I will tell her."

The boy turned and nearly ran into Marian and the look of confusion on his face seemed to ask, "Who are you?" But he merely shrugged his shoulders and ran off toward home.

Sally once again looked away and spoke quietly, "Forgive him, Milady, he is too young to remember when you were often here."

They heard giggling from the box.

Marian opened the lid, "Anne, my dear, I think you fooled them." She set the basket aside and lifted the girl from the box. "Are you going home for supper as well?"

The child looked sullen, "No, the Nightwatchman did not visit us last night."

Marian knelt in front of the child, "Didn't he? Well, he cannot visit every house all of the time, now can he? Here," she took a crock of beans and handed it to the girl, "Make sure that you return that crock to Thornton when you are finished."

The young lass beamed and ran off with her prize.

Marian turned back to the mission at hand. Rather than placing the food in Sally's hands, she turned and placed the basket on the box, removing some items and placing them out for Sally to collect later. She turned and took Sally's hand, "One only need look at you, Sally, to see that you are not fine. If you ever find yourself in need of anything, please come to find me." She gave the hand a gentle squeeze.

Sally suddenly pulled her hand away and caught her breath.

"Sally?" Marian felt as if Sally were studying her, as if she were looking through her eyes rather than at them. "Sally?"

The woman seemed to return to the present.

Marian offered a small smile, "I will come to check on you and the children again soon."

The corners of Sally's mouth again seemed to turn to a smile, though she could not quite manage it. "No one checked on me for years, and now it seems that everyone will be checking on me."

Marian's smile grew, "Everyone?"

"Yes, the Nightwatchman was here last evening and then in the middle of the night, I got a visit from Robin Hood, offering me protection. Now you are here, offering me food."

"Hood!" She immediately began her act of despising him, "Hood is an outlaw."

"He is a hero." The smile Sally had been fighting finally broke through.

It was not the type of smile Marian had been hoping for. "He is a fool with a price on his head who thinks that he can change things with a bow and arrow."

Sally gave no reply. Instead she had wrapped her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and seemed to be staring at her back window.

Marian got the woman's attention with a hand on the shoulder. "Sally, I am truly sorry for your situation and I will say nothing to Sir Guy, but do not let the Sheriff find out that you are consorting with outlaws. You will be hanged."

"I am not consorting. He just suddenly appeared at my window, promising that I've nothing to fear any longer." She sighed, "I've no idea how he knew."

"Yes, well, I hear that Hood has people everywhere."

Sally's smile was accompanied by a second sigh, "Apparently…"

The woman seemed to be studying her intently, and Marian found herself uncomfortable. "Well…as I said… if you find yourself in need please do come to find me. I will visit again soon, if I am welcome."

"You are welcome."

"Good. I will see you soon."

Sally watched in envy as Marian walked away, her elegant blue dress swaying with her. How is it that some are born to privilege and some not? How is it that some women have nobleman fighting over them and others marry second sons from Nettlestone? Certainly beauty has nothing to do with it. Sally, eldest daughter of Thomas, serf of Locksley, was a blond-haired, blue-eyed Saxon beauty. Her angelic face had been the talk of the village for one week upon her birth, until the young Lord of Locksley arrived, a bit ahead of schedule. For her entire life, she had passed through the village as if on air, everyone nodding and smiling as she passed, whispering, "such a lovely girl." It was a blessing. Her mother taught her to sew and no one ever expected her to work in the fields. Hard work, after all, can mean the demise of beauty. It was a curse as well, for every man, common or noble, noticed her and the young Lord of Locksley had been no exception.

And so it was that she had found herself in the woods with him on several occasions. She had been collecting flowers for Ruth, Thornton's wife, to grace the manor table no doubt, when he'd appear with some line about how the flowers should be forced to bow to her superior beauty and she acquiesced to his advances. A "silver-tongued devil," she'd called him, to which he had simply smiled and pulled her to the edge of the wood, ordering his man-servant to keep watch.

She sat at her rear window and rested her head on the sill, staring into the forest.

---------------

Marian returned to find Sir Guy slouched and sleeping in his chair. His early morning awakening coupled with the large meal made his eyelids heavy. She scribbled a note on paper and ink Thornton provided.

Guy –

Forgive my departure, but I did not wish to disturb you. Thank you for a lovely meal and I look forward to our next supper at Locksley Manor.

–Marian

She handed the note to Thornton, who failed to hide a small look of disdain. The look stung. It seemed almost the look of a father, disappointed with the behaviour of a child. As he took the letter, he acknowledged her, "Lady Marian," but she did not let go. Instead she met his eyes with intensity of purpose, then ever so subtly raised her eyebrow and softened her stare. "Thornton," she acknowledged. Marian stepped across the room to the tapestry, hanging near the entrance. "I am glad to see that Lady Locksley's handiwork still graces the manor," she said, running her fingers along an especially delicate line of stitches. The old servant's stare softened and he nodded. He had, after all, seen her run from her wedding, and this small gesture was enough to indicate that perhaps her attendance at dinner was not what it seemed.

Marian scrambled in as lady-like a way as she could manage toward the stables, desperately wanting to disappear before Guy awoke. She hastily prepared her horse, trying to look as though she was not in a hurry. She trotted over the rise outside the village and looked to the right to see the old tree that had been Robin's target when he was young. Immediately, she kicked her horse into a full gallop, completely unaware of where she was going. The freedom of the horse was intoxicating. The animal would take her anywhere she wanted to go—to the castle, to the forest, away from Nottinghamshire altogether. For just a moment, the thought was tempting, but alas, she soon found herself where she always did when she set off without a destination. Sherwood. If home is where the heart is, hers was there. But riding the horse and seeing Sally brought back memories for her as well.

_Nottinghamshire, 1185_

_Marian galloped across the fields between Knighton and Locksley. Her new filly was indeed the fastest horse she'd ever ridden, and the animal's responses to her commands from the reins were quick and deft. Certain that she could now beat Robin, she decided that she absolutely must challenge him to a race. _

_She was delighted to glance up from her ride and find Much, sitting atop the hill at the edge of Sherwood. _

"_Much!" She called to him and waved. _

_She saw him wave back. _

_He spoke as she approached. "Marian, what a lovely horse you have there." _

_Marian dismounted and patted her horse's neck as she spoke. "Yes, she is lovely, isn't she? Where is Robin? I want to race him." _

_Much shuffled his feet and clasped his hands. "Robin? Uh, he is…uh…unavailable at the moment. He is…uh…he is…"_

"_Much?"_

"…_hiding. Yes, that's it. He is hiding."_

"_Hiding, from whom?"_

"_Me."_

"_Are you to go and find him then?" Much's explanation seemed out of place as Marian could not remember the last time 18-year-old Robin had played hide-and-seek. He'd cursed the game as childish to her years before. _

"_Me? No…he…uh…he doesn't want to be found, at the moment." Much cursed himself. Hunting would have been a much better explanation. _

"_Then why is he hiding? Is something wrong?" _

_A giggle emanated from the gully just past the forest's edge, making Marian more suspicious. _

"_Wrong? No, nothing's wrong."_

_Marian brushed past him and headed toward the sound. _

"_No, Marian, don't go down there…"_

_She should have listened to him, but no one ever listened to Much. Her heart stopped when halfway down the hill she saw Robin…kissing Sally! His hand was in her hair! His other hand was…well…she was unable to ascertain where his other hand was but it was not in any place that was proper! She stood for a moment, eyes wide open, mouth gaping until she found the strength to gather her skirts and run back over the hill, fuming and crying at the same time. She mounted her horse and took off from whence she came, covering Much with dust in the process._

---------------

Sally was certain that the hooded figure emerging from the greenwood and approaching her window was part of her daydream.

"Sally? How are you?"

"My husband has not yet come home. He often goes to drink, but he is usually home by noontime from the night watch and it is already past supper."

"Yes, well, he may have gotten lost in the forest," Robin raised his eyebrow while staring at his thumbs, then glanced at her with a sly grin.

Sally flushed and immediately looked away. "Oh," she looked down, uncertain of how to feel. After all, the man was the father of her children, not much of one, granted, but one all the same. And she had taken a vow before God to be his wife. All at once, a feeling of relief came over her at the thought that she, and most importantly the children, might now be safe, but she was also gripped by fear at what his reaction would be to Robin's warning. But all of that was set aside by her sudden flush and a flutter in her stomach as she felt Robin's eyes upon her and his hand on her shoulder.

"Everything is going to be fine," he dipped his head to meet her eyes. Sally found that where she could not look at him before, she now could not look away.

"I thought you were sending one of your men to check on me?"

"I was in the area."

She noticed a green dress draped over his shoulder, "A delivery?"

"What?"

Sally nodded in the direction of the dress.

"Oh, this! Yes, a delivery."

"Lucky woman. That is a noblewoman's dress."

Robin invented a cover story. "Yes, well, we took it from a noblewoman."

Sally began to giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"Sorry. I was just picturing a noblewoman in her britches, standing in the forest after you've taken her dress!"

Robin joined in the laughter. "Sally! It was in her travel chest. We outlaws have higher standards than to strip women of their clothing." He continued to chuckle and mumbled, "Would be pretty funny though."

Sally reached out and ran her finger along a seam. "That is fine needlework."

"Your mother was a seamstress, was she not?"

"Yes. In fact she made many of Lady Sarah's dresses."

Robin smiled a distant smile, as if through a fog.

"She was so kind, your mother. She possessed superior skills with a needle herself, yet always hired seamstresses for sewing and mending because she knew we needed the income. And she had simple tastes, elegant and refined."

Robin let out a small sigh, "Yes. Yes, she did."

"But Lady Katherine, on the other hand…"

"Well, Lady Katherine always was…bold."

"Bold? Flamboyant. Her dresses took my mother nearly a fortnight to complete. I used to have to help her to sew the beading on the bodice in order to finish the dresses by deadline."

"They were not all flamboyant. There was a simple ruby gown with long sleeves and beads just along the neckline."

Sally looked at him strangely, "Did Sir Edward know that you were staring at his wife?"

Robin offered a laugh from low in his stomach, "Trust me, Sir Edward was well aware that every man stared at his wife, and even more aware that every man stared at his daughter."

"Well she certainly had you entranced."

"Me? Entranced? Absolutely impossible." He tried to remain serious, but Sally could see that he was fighting a smile.

"Liar. That night you brought her to the Midsummer's party, you glowed with her upon your arm and you did not take your eyes off her all night. I could not manage to get your attention no matter how hard I tried."

"Yes, well, she _was_ to be the future Lady Locksley, but…"

"But what?"

"Things change…" He looked once more at his thumbs as it suddenly struck him that they might be having a very different conversation, in the front yard rather than at the rear window, if he had been walking through the village with his proper title intact, "and sometimes those changes are…unexpected."

"Yes," Sally suddenly noticed the pain of her bruises, which had faded with the pleasantness of the conversation, "unexpected."

Robin looked up to see Marian leaving the Manor. "I should go," he held up the dress in his hand, "deliveries to make." A very special delivery.

"Will you come again soon?" she asked, almost too urgently, "I mean, I enjoy the company."

"If I am near. If not, I will send one of my men." He winked, gave two taps on the windowsill and disappeared into the greenwood.

And Sally could not take her eyes from the forest.


	7. Chapter 6 The Log

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Chapter 5

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Marian dismounted her horse and tied it to the mangled roots of a giant tree that straddled the river deep within the forest. It was felled by a giant thunderstorm when Marian was ten. The river beneath was deep and lumbering and thus, the spot had become a favourite swimming hole for her and Robin and Much, for few others dared to venture this deep into Sherwood.

She grabbed a stick, removed her boots, climbed onto the natural bridge and gracefully crossed to the center. There she sat, dipping her toes in the water and swirling the stick in random patterns across the water's surface. This was not the first time she'd sat in this place, contemplating her role in the world around her. Nor was it the first time she'd sat here cursing _him_. She peeled bark from the log and threw it far ahead in the river, then watched as the current carried it beneath her and out of sight. "Hero," she muttered, recalling Sally's words, but then smirked as she thought of him. "He is a hero…and a fool…a fool who is 'sick with worry' apparently." She threw another piece of bark in frustration. "What does he know about being sick with worry? _I'm_ the one who had to pass through life wondering if he was coming home!" She threw another piece. "And he goes gallivanting about without a care, traveling to Nottingham and sneaking about the castle when he knows full well that his head is worth a fortune. He has no consideration for…"

"For what?"

She turned quickly, nearly losing her balance, and looked down at him, popping his head out of the water, "What are you doing here?"

"I believe you said a bath was in order."

_Damn that smile. _She threw a piece of bark at his head.

"This is not the first time I've heard you cursing my name from that log, you know."

"And I am certain it shall not be the last."

---------------

_Sherwood Forest, 1185_

"_Marian, what are you doing?'_

"_What does it look like I'm doing?"_

"_It looks like you walked on a log over the river when you were alone. That's very dangerous, you know."_

"_I can swim," she snapped. She felt the log jostle a bit as Robin began to cross. It was annoying, how graceful he was. She had to put her arms out for balance and tip toe across the log to her current position, and he seemed to dance across it as if it were solid ground. She was tempted to rock the log to make him fall into the river but decided against it. _

_He slipped into place beside her. "Your father is worried about you. He came to Locksley looking for you."_

_She did not look at him or speak to him. She continued to pretend he was not there, snapping bark from the tree and tossing it into the water. _

_Finally, Robin spoke. "Marian, I am sorry that you had to see that."_

"_What kind of an apology is that?"_

"_I said I was sorry."_

"_No, you said you were sorry that I saw it, not that you were sorry for doing it in the first place!"_

"_I'm not."_

_She used all her might to shove him forward into the river but in doing so his greater weight counterbalanced her slight frame and she instead tumbled backward into the river, taking in mouthfuls of water in the process. She came up coughing, eyes closed, but before she could open them she felt him slide his arm around her waist and use the other to wipe her hair from her face. Opening her eyes, she found herself in the middle of the river with him as her anchor, his face only inches away, his hand still lingering on her cheek. His eyes were intoxicating from a distance, but at this range it seemed nearly impossible not to get lost in their depths. She prayed that he would assume her heavy breathing was from coughing rather than his nearness. _

"_Are you alright?"_

_She promptly placed her palms against his chest and pushed him away, quickly swimming to shore. _

"_I'll take that as a yes." He watched her as she exited the river, pulling at her dress as it clung to her now nicely developing frame. Forcing himself to concentrate, he swam after her, "Marian, wait!" But she was already headed for her horse. _

_She was just about to kick her horse into a gallop when Robin stood in front of her, hands in the air, water running down his sides. He reached out and took her horse by the bridle. _

"_Marian, get down."_

"_I do not want to talk to you." _

"_Marian, please, don't be stubborn. Just get down."_

"_Go on then," she made no sign of dismounting the horse, "say whatever it is you have to say."_

"_I'm sorry, Marian, alright? I… just get down please?"_

_She acquiesced. "This had better be good," she warned. _

---------------

Marian looked up from her thoughts to find him in dripping wet trousers, hopping onto the end of the log from the riverbank. "I cursed you from this log because you were a fiendish boy with no consideration for anyone other than yourself."

Robin wondered exactly which incident of 'cursing him from the log' she was referring to. "That is not true."

"Pfff!"

"Marian, that is not true. I did consider you."

"Robin! You were in the woods with Sally when you were betrothed to me! How does that _possibly_ qualify as consideration? And what about Sally? Did you consider her?"

Robin crossed his arms and stared down at the water. He shook his head.

"And you still do not consider my feelings."

"I most certainly do."

"Oh, really?" She mocked him, "'If you love me, you will stop this.'"

"How is being concerned for your welfare not considering you?" He turned toward her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away, "Marian, I nearly lost you – both to my own stupidity and to Gisborne's knife. If something were to happen to you while you are in the castle or out in disguise, I could not live with the regret that I did not protect you."

"Sometimes you are a selfish bastard, do you know that?"

Robin was astounded at her accusation. He was telling the truth. What did she want from him? "What!"

"Has it _ever_ occurred to you what it is like to be in love with a man with a price on his head?"

"No."

"Has it _ever_ occurred to you that if something happened to you…something I might have prevented with my presence in the castle…that _I_ could not live with the regret?"

Robin could not create a coherent thought. All he really wanted to do at that moment was to grab her and kiss her with a passion equal to the anger they were both expressing. He knew, however, that that would only anger her further. Instead, Robin broke into a broad smile.

"What could possibly be funny?" she demanded.

He turned away so as to not show her he was laughing. "Nothing."

"Don't tell me 'nothing' when you obviously find something quite hilarious."

"It's just that..."

"It's just that what?"

"You are gorgeous when you're angry."

Marian let out a growl of frustration and motioned with both hands toward the sky.

Robin stopped laughing and moved closer to her, taking her hands in both of his. "Marian, you are right. I have never stopped to consider that you fear losing me as much as I fear losing you, but that is probably because I've no idea what I've done to deserve those feelings from you."

"You are a fool, Robin of Locksley." She stared at their intertwined fingers.

"Am I?"

Robin sighed, but Marian sensed that the conversation was not over.

"Marian you are strong, and you are a good fighter…but you are, despite all that, a woman and you will never be a match for a large, professionally-trained soldier. Some of the Sheriff's men, despite their apparent incompetence, are nearly as big and strong as John, and if one of them overcame you…"

"Robin, I have fought three or four men at one time."

"Yes you have, often successfully, but Marian, everyone gets caught sometimes. Why do you think Much throws such a fit when I travel by myself?"

She shrugged.

"Because he knows, Marian. He knows that even the best fighters get caught sometimes and need backup. He has seen it, and so have I."

"Yet you never heed his warnings."

"That is true. I do travel by myself when I think the risk is warranted. But if the gang is caught, we are thrown into the dungeon."

"Or tortured."

"Or tortured."

"Or hanged."

"Or hanged. But Marian, if you are caught…" He clasped her hand more tightly and pressed it to his lips, begging her to listen. "Marian…I have seen what happens to women when they are captured by soldiers." His eyes welled. "Please, Marian, don't ask me to…" He choked on his words, "I cannot bear the thought."

She slid toward him and allowed him to pull her close with an arm around her shoulders. "Robin, I cannot stop being the Nightwatchman any more than you can stop being Robin Hood."

"I know."

"The people need me."

"I need you."

"Yes you do. You need me in the castle to bring you information."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

He ran his fingers through her hair and rested his hand at the side of her face. "Marian, sneaking out of Knighton Hall was one thing, but sneaking out of the castle is something entirely different. Just, promise me that you will be careful. Take no unnecessary risks."

"I promise."

They sat on their log with eyes closed, pleased to have found a moment of contentment in one another's presence.

Marian felt Robin's torso shake a bit as a laugh escaped his lips. "What are you thinking about?"

"You."

"Of course, me," she chided him, "but what about me?"

"You always were more daring than was safe."

---------------

_They moved to sit in a clearing where the summer sun offered some warmth in contrast to the thick canopy of Sherwood. Robin was soon sitting beside her, though the few feet between them felt like miles. They sat in silence for a long while, neither sure of what to say. Finally, she summoned enough courage to speak her mind. "Is she beautiful?"_

"_What?"_

"_Sally, is she beautiful?"_

"_Marian…"_

_She simply raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for a reply._

"_Yes, she is."_

"_And I am not."_

_His laughter infuriated her. For his part, Robin knew he'd hurt her feelings but it hadn't occurred to him that she was jealous. "I didn't say that."_

"_Well you didn't have to." _

"_Marian, every nobleman in three shires has made known his jealousy to me."_

"_Why, because Sally does not live in their villages?"_

"_No," he suddenly seemed at a loss for words, "because…" He finished in his head, "the most beautiful and eligible girl in three shires is promised to me." But Robin was unable to say any words even close to those that occupied his mind. Instead, they sat in awkward silence and exhaled simultaneous, frustrated sighs. They both knew what came after the "because…"_

"_Would you choose differently?" Robin broke the silence_

"_What?"_

"_If your father gave you the choice, would you choose differently?"_

"_No, they are all scoundrels but I suppose you are the least of them. Though after today, I'm not so sure. William of Duffield seems a fine gentleman."_

"_William of Duffield is boring as salt, and I can assure you he is NOT a fine gentleman." _

"_Perhaps not, but he thinks I am beautiful. He told me so himself." Though she glanced at him only with the corner of her eye, she could see jealousy begin to possess him. _

"_When?" _

"_Last autumn." She jumped to her feet and leaned over him, adding "when he kissed me." She whipped herself into her saddle, "The old oak?"_

_Robin accepted her challenge, untying his horse and preparing himself in the saddle. "Do you want a head start?"_

"_Don't need one."_

"_All right then…HA!" He kicked his horse into action and she quickly followed._

_They bounded through the forest, ducking low branches and jumping fallen trees. Robin brushed a low branch. It snapped, whipping Marian and her horse as she passed. A fallen tree, too low to pass under yet too high to jump, forced Robin to pull up slightly and go around. Marian, however, was sure that her new filly was up to the task. She'd jumped fences higher. Robin watched as she urged the animal forward and leaped the log, only slightly grazing the animal's left rear hoof in the process. He kicked his horse into action, realizing that the old oak was not far off, but Marian had already dismounted and tied her horse by the time he caught up with her._

_He quickly dismounted and approached her, "Marian, have you lost your mind? I've seen you pull some dangerous stunts, but that was insane! You could have been killed."_

"_You're just angry that I beat you."_

"_No, I'm angry that you would put beating me above your own safety!"_

"_Oh, yes, you obviously have such great concern for me!"_

"_That is unfair."_

"_Hardly."_

_Another awkward silence. Robin tied off his horse and leaned against the ancient tree, watching Marian as she stroked her horse's neck and rubbed its nose to hers. "You know," he stepped forward, "I do not think William of Duffield would tolerate your beating him in a horse race."_

"_And you will?"_

_Robin tickled her sides from behind in a playful gesture. "No, I'll just sneak into your stables and tamper with your horse."_

_She turned and grabbed his wrists, uselessly fighting his much greater strength. "You would not dare." Then suddenly he stopped fighting her and she found him once again touching her face, this time stroking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. _

"_No, I could not bring myself to tamper with such a lovely, graceful, dignified creature." _

_The veiled apology took a moment to settle in her mind. She argued with herself. Was it possible for him to be both inconsiderate and considerate at the same time? "Why," she wondered as she fought the urge to melt beneath his touch, "Why must I care for a silly boy who compares me to a horse?" But she let slide his rather awkward comparison, and instead closed her eyes and exhaled, offering recognition that she understood his sentiment. It seemed to Marian that her lips twitched for an eternity in expectation of the kiss she was certain was imminent. She prepared not to let it melt her, prepared not to let it wash away her anger…_

---------------

"See, I did consider you."

"I cannot believe that you compared me to horse!" she gave him a small shove. "Honestly, Robin, I think you must have used all of your best lines on other women because you certainly didn't use them on me."

"Of course not!"

"Of course not? What is that supposed to mean?"

He suddenly turned serious. "It means that I wasn't prepared for how I felt about you. Those lines are easy to say when there is no feeling behind them, but if it is someone you care about…"

Marian lifted her head and turned to look at him, "Why didn't you kiss me?"

"Is that a request?"

"No, not now, you fool…then…why didn't you kiss me then?

Robin tilted his head back and laughed so hard he nearly fell from the log.

---------------

_Robin stared at her. He knew he should kiss her. It was obvious, wasn't it? But she was transforming from a girl to a woman before his eyes, and he could not handle it. He stared at her, in a wet dress that clung from her developing figure, with the sun reflecting off her face. Wishing to avoid an embarassing physical reaction, he immediately released his hands from her and headed toward his horse. _

_The disappearance of his warmth returned Marian to the situation at hand, "I am still unhappy with you."_

_Robin chuckled aloud but did not speak, "Believe me, if you knew what was on my mind right now, I assure you that you would be equally unhappy with me."_

"_Robin?"_

_He turned to her, looking quite contrite. "I am sorry, Marian. Really… I never meant to…"_

"_What? To get caught?"_

"_I suppose I deserve that."_

"_Yes, you do."_

"_Please, Marian, just accept my apology."_

_She simply nodded. "Apology accepted, but forgiveness will take time."_

---------------

"Robin of Locksley, I will never understand you. You spent years sneaking out of the council and the watchful eyes of our fathers so that you could steal kisses from me and then you let pass the most perfect of opportunities! Honestly!"

"If you have not figured out by now why I could not kiss you then you are not as astute as I think you are."

She challenged him with words. "And if you think that I have not yet figured it out, then you truly do not understand me." She flung one leg over the log and straddled it, leaning close enough so that she knew he could feel her breath on his face. She whispered, "I am just trying to get you to say it." She held fast, holding his gaze and daring him with her eyes to attempt to squirm his way out.

But he did not back away. Instead, he straddled the log as well "That was the first time I saw you as a woman. You challenged me to be better than I was, and I realized that I liked that." He reached up and ran his finger down the side of her face, "And the fact that I liked that scared me to no end."

Marian's stare softened. She'd expected him to come up with some line, but she had not expected that the line would be _honest_.

Robin began lifting his weight on his hands and inching closer to her. "And I had already angered your father that day and if you'd have gone home and told him that I kissed you, I am certain he would have ended our betrothal. Plus…"

By this point Marian felt as she had all those years ago, as if her lips had been twitching for an eternity. She found herself aching to kiss him. Their time together was so precious and everything felt so…perfect. She urged him to continue with her eyes.

"…Plus, you were in a wet dress and I had plenty of other things on my mind besides kissing you."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"And are those things on your mind now?"

He smiled, "Is that a request?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes."

---------------

"_Well don't just stand there," Marian teased. "Do you or do you not want a second chance?"_

_He again accepted, checking the belts of his saddle and rising to the back of the horse to meet her challenge. "To the West Gate?"_

_They took off once again, this time over the open fields between the forest and Nottingham. The filly's quick turns and graceful jumping were an advantage in the forest, but the animal could never match a stallion's speed in an all-out foot race. Nonetheless, Robin slowly eased his animal back, allowing Marian to catch and pass him. When she reached the gate, she turned to taunt him and realized that he had stopped on the hill, a quarter-mile short of the wall, allowing her the dignity of entering the castle on her own terms, unescorted. How is it, she wondered, that such a fool can also be such a gentleman? She raised her arm in a wave of recognition and watched as he reared his horse to its hind legs and spun in a circle before galloping full tilt out of sight. "Show off."_

_The next day a letter arrived. _

_Lady Marian – _

_I had planned to call upon you today, but my father is sending me to uncle Henry's lands in Lincolnshire. His health is failing, and he requires some assistance with the property. I will, however, return by midsummer's day and it is my sincere hope that, if you have forgiven me, you will allow me to escort you to the festival. – Robin of Locksley_

---------------

Marian rode into Nottingham nearly at sundown. As she passed the church, she flushed, reminding herself that she would most definitely need to go to confession tomorrow after her encounter at the river. _Perhaps I need to go twice,_ she thought to herself. But her thoughts were anything but contrite as she bit the tip of her finger.

She passed Allan in the courtyard.

"You have a nice visit to Sherwood, then?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "I was having dinner in Locksley with Guy."

"Oh, come on, Marian. I don't mean to be rude, but only one man puts a smile like that on your face, and we both know it isn't Guy."

"Allan-a-Dale…"

"I know, I know… I forget to whom I am speaking." He began to back away and before turning added, "It's a good look for you, though."

Marian rolled her eyes and put her hand upon her hip, but her smile indicated that she was unable to disagree with him. She hummed as she retired to her chambers and prepared for the evening's pursuits.


	8. Chapter 7 The Dagger

A/N: This chapter contains the original piece of writing that inspired this entire story – young Marian at the mid-summer's party. I hope you will enjoy it. Drop me a line if you did – reviews make every writer smile.

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Chapter 7

---------------

Ever persistent, Guy asked Marian to dinner the following evening as well. She, of course, accepted, though worried about how much longer she would be able to fend him off. The events of that day when they had defended Nottingham stood in the forefront of his mind and he seemed convinced that she would soon accept his advances.

Still, with her usual guile, Marian managed to escape the manor with food for the villagers. Her intention: to see that Sally and the children were fine, and perhaps to check on Anne's family as well. As she approached, she could hear Nigel's threatening voice.

"If I find that Hood was anywhere near you I will expose you to all of Nottingham as the whore that you are!"

Marian could see that he had Sally pinned against the wall in the hut, and he raised his hand to slap her across the face. Marian rushed forward, "Nigel! Take your hands off her!"

Nigel turned, still holding his wife by the front of her dress. "Get out of my house!"

"Let her go."

"Get out!"

Marian never used her status to dominate peasants, but in this case its use seemed warranted. "I am a noblewoman in this shire, Nigel, and you will respect me as such. This is _not _your house. This house belongs to the Locksley lands and Sally's family has lived here for three generations. It is your privilege to live here and I can easily have you removed. Now go." She pointed out the door.

"Noblewoman," he barked with disdain. His nose was inches from her face and saliva sprayed from his lips.

Marian did not offer so much as a wince at the spray.

He dared not say his next words to her face, though he made sure that she heard him as he walked away, "You are Gisborne's whore!" He spat on the ground as he left for duty.

Sally rushed over to the bucket and dampened a cloth, then rushed to Marian and began wiping her dress, neck and face where Nigel had sprayed. "I'm so sorry, Milady."

Marian took Sally's hands and calmed her, "You've nothing to be sorry for, Sally. Are you alright?"

Sally nodded, "Thank you." She began to dab again and noticed a familiar stitching on Marian's dress. "I am sorry for what he said to you."

Marian took the cloth from her hands. "No matter. They are just words."

"Now, don't worry for your reputation, Milady."

"My reputation?" Marian set down the rag.

"Well, surely you know that people talk."

"People have always talked," Marian raised her chin in defiance but succumbed to her curiosity. "What do they say?"

"Well, it is odd, Milady, that you live in the castle and yet you are married to neither Gisborne nor the Sheriff."

_The Sheriff!_ Marian found herself nearly ill at the thought.

"And your father has died, so you've noone to support you. Yet you've not married. And people do wonder…" She stopped. She dared not say what was next.

"People wonder what?"

"Oh, pay them no mind, Milady," Sally smiled and stared right at Marian. "When everything is back as it should be, they will all understand why you waited to marry."

Marian smiled at the thought of Robin then met Sally's gaze and it dawned on her that Sally knew. Her smile dropped and her face went white.

"Your dress," Sally whispered this new secret shared between them.

"My dress?"

Sally ordered her son away, "Joseph, why don't you go see if Randall would like to play?" The boy ran from the hut. Sally turned back to Marian, "Your dress was over Robin's shoulder when he visited me yesterday."

"Hood was here again yesterday?"

Sally put a hand on Marian's shoulder. "It's alright, Milady, your secret is safe with me."

Marian felt the tension in her chest dissipate. In fact, she could not help but feel some bit of relief. Someone knew. Someone else besides the gang knew. As dangerous as it was, she could not help but feel a sense of release and comfort in being able to speak freely about him with someone, and a woman at that. "Marian. Please call me Marian."

Sally was unable to address her in the familiar. "Lady Marian, you've nothing to fear from me. You've been more than kind to me of late and Robin…well, Robin has always been…Robin has always been Robin."

"Indeed." Marian shifted in discomfort as Robin's history with the woman, the details of which remained a mystery to Marian, came to mind. She knew only what she'd witnessed that day at the edge of the wood. Robin had never offered more information and she had never asked. In fact, the previous day at the log had been the first time they had so much as acknowledged the incident since it had happened all those years ago. She was certain that Sally did not know that Marian had been a witness to her teenage wanderings, and yet there still seemed a certain lilt in the woman's voice when she spoke Robin's name. Marian changed the subject, "Did your husband harm you?"

"No, not this time," the fear in her voice indicated that she was certain there would be other opportunities.

"I take it Robin warned him?"

"Apparently, but it has only angered him more. I think that he interprets _protection_ as something more than it is."

Marian felt the irrational jealousy rise from within her. She had accused Robin of it so many times and here was that same pang of jealousy in her own stomach. She struggled to overcome it with empathy. "Sally, Robin will not let anything happen…nor will I. He will post one of his men to keep watch, if necessary. Or perhaps we might help you to leave and settle elsewhere." The words exited her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. The suggestion was warranted, and really the best in the situation, but Marian wondered if Sally detected the hint of jealousy – an echo of a past unspoken.

"I cannot leave Locksley, Lady Marian. My family has been here for a long time. It is my home. And I took a vow before God to honour my husband."

"And he took a vow to honour you, which he does with neither word nor deed. Do you have people elsewhere?"

"I have cousins on the estates in Duffield, but…"

"Just think about it." Marian was able to push the jealousy away, "It need not be permanent."

Sally looked at her.

"I mean that when things are back as they should be you can return." She leaned into the woman and spoke in hushed tones, "and Robin can banish Nigel."

A glimmer of hope shone in Sally's eye. Marian recognised it. It was the sparkle of hope that only Robin's name could bring to the populace. With that, she felt an entirely different kind of jealousy rise. "I will make sure that Robin posts someone when Nigel returns from his shift."

"So, I guess he was telling the truth when he said that he had people everywhere?"

Marian found she was momentarily sick with worry, "Sally, it will place him in great danger for anyone to know."

"Not to worry, Lady Marian." Sally took her hand, "I would not see him harmed any more than you." She added, "Thank you."

Marian gave Sally's hand a squeeze and then turned to leave. This visit had certainly taken an interesting turn, and Marian attempted to quiet her mind as she returned to Locksley Manor and then to the Castle. As distraction, she focused upon her tasks for the evening. Jocelyn Evans in Nettlestone, she'd heard, was taken with fever, so she gathered herbs for a tea. She'd not checked on the Widow Thurston in Wadlow for nearly a fortnight. "That's fine," she spoke to herself as if she was rationalising her actions to Robin. "I'll just go to Nettlestone, then check on Widow Thurston in Wadlow and then circle back along the edge of the forest. No Locksley in sight." Yes, that was perfectly within the limits of agreement.

And the night was certainly agreeable, though the full moon limited the number of stars in the sky. Little Jocelyn's fever was high, but probably not high enough to kill her and the tea would help. Widow Thurston was sleeping peacefully in her cottage when Marian arrived, so she left a small sack of grain in the yard. Overall, it had been a successful evening. But as she walked along the edge of the forest toward Nottingham, it called to her. She'd an hour or so to spare, and it would be lovely to see the gang.

As she approached she could hear Much and Robin talking.

"You returned the dress to Marian then?"

Robin gave no reply, but Marian could imagine the look on his face by Much's response.

"You are incorrigible, do you know that?"

She could hear Robin's sniggering laugh.

"You two are going to get into trouble if you keep this up, and I'll be damned if I'm going to become a nursemaid to a child in the forest!"

"Oh relax, Much."

"Don't tell me to relax. I've spent half my life following you into trouble and the other half trying to keep you out of it. And what of Marian's honour, have you no consideration for that?"

Robin roared with laughter.

"Why is that funny?"

"I think I heard the word consideration at least twenty times yesterday."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Look, Much," he turned to his friend in earnest, searching as usual for words._ We've spent too much time apart_,he wanted to say._ We've no idea when this fight will be over and we don't want to have regrets._ He looked away. It was easier to speak without meeting Much's gaze, "either one of us could die tomorrow."

"Well why don't you just get married then?"

"Much, you know very well that is not a possibility."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason I didn't try to convince her before I left."

"Because you will not leave her a widow?"

Robin nodded. "And don't think that I haven't thought of everything you said. I have. We are always..." He paused. The details that came after "always" were details he was perfectly happy keeping to himself.

"Always what?"

"..._careful_." Robin winked.

Much rolled his eyes but continued in the lightened mood. "It's funny though, because you were always so mindful of her honour when she was young."

"Of course I was."

"And you had a jolly good time making sure that others did as well."

"Well, Edward did that, mostly. I just warned off a few overzealous lords," he smiled.

---------------

_It was a few hours before midnight and at the castle every manner of self-indulgence and excess was present from the feast upon the tables, to the garments commissioned for the occasion, to the multiple minstrel troupes that had been hired for the evening's entertainments. The Great Hall was awash with the flowing colors of jeweled gowns and golden threads, and it echoed with the laughter of half-drunken nobles from the surrounding shires. The older men gathered in the front of the room, talking politics and attempting to curry favor with Edward. Their wives gathered to the side, alternately glancing from their daughters to the unmarried noblemen, keeping careful watch and ensuring their daughters' virtue from a distance. The unmarried first and second sons stood in a tight group surrounded by their servants, for those with servants wanted to make everyone aware of that fact. Despite their attempts at discretion, they were unable to hide from the mothers the fact that they were carefully scanning the group of cooing young ladies across the room. The young gentlemen had been paying particular attention to Susan of Havington, the second daughter in a family of daughters and therefore a prize not just for her beauty but her land. She'd something of a reputation for forgetting to mind her honour, but for the purposes of the evening, that suited the young noblemen just fine. Most prominent among this group of gawking young men were William of Duffield, Simon of York, and Robin of Locksley, each heir to an earldom, each well-landed, and each of whom, with family consent, could have their choice of most any young woman of marriageable age present in the room. _

"_Come on, Robin, that flower is yours for the picking," William of Duffield goaded, pointing at Susan with one hand and making a lewd gesture with the other._

_Robin simply smiled and took another sip of wine, raising his eyebrows at his fellow nobleman and allowing his shoulders to shake a bit in a laugh of recognition. _

_Simon of York chimed in, "That flower has already been picked. Besides, why would he want Susan when he has been promised the Sheriff's daughter?" _

"_Marian?" Robin asked nonchalantly, the slight crack in his voice revealing his discomfort with the new topic of conversation. "Edward and I have no such arrangement."_

"_No, but surely your father does."_

_Robin brushed them off, "Marian is a child."_

"_Are you blind, Man? She is a child no longer."_

_Robin swirled the wine in his goblet and stared at it. The fact was he was not blind to the changes in Marian. He noticed that her face was thinner, that her lanky body was developing roundness in all the right places, that when she ascended into the saddle, or crossed a stream in the wood, or even when she shot her bow, she did so with a dignity and poise more like that of a woman than a girl. Of course he had noticed…he was just trying not to. _

"_Well then," Gareth of Barton haughtily slid into the conversation, "if you have not claimed her, I suppose you would not mind if I have a go."_

_Although Robin continued to stare into his goblet, his look transitioned from one of embarrassment to that of a protective, threatening scowl. He remained silent, but his body tensed as the voices of his fellow noblemen swirled about him. _

"_Ha!" Simon and William laughed simultaneously at Gareth. _

"_Your father's lands will all go to your older brother! Sir Edward would never let you near her," said Simon._

"_No, but that doesn't mean that I can't have a little fun, does it? She'd certainly look good lying in my father's hayloft. "_

"_She'd look good in your dreams," William poked._

"_She DOES look good in my dreams."_

"_And if the Sheriff found out? He'd lock you in the dungeon."_

"_Trust me," Much spoke out of turn, "you do NOT want to be on the receiving end of Edward." Robin silenced him with a motion of the hand but, despite the gesture of authority, did shoot a small glimmer of recognition over his shoulder, having been on the receiving end of Edward's authority on more than one occasion, and recently to boot. _

"_Nah. Edward is not a problem," William boasted, "I could handle him. Besides, he must know that his daughter is now of marriageable age. Who could offer more than me? I am landed and heir to a title, what more could he want for his daughter?"_

"_A man with principles," Much mumbled under his breath so that only Robin could hear, causing his master to stifle a chuckle. Still, Much could tell by the way that Robin opened and closed the fingers of his right fist that he was irritated but trying not to let it show. Why had he not silenced them? All he need say was that Marian was promised to him. No one ever said it out loud, but everyone was aware that their parents intended them for one another. Even if they were not officially betrothed, surely Robin would not stand for those men speaking about Marian like that! _

_The nobles continued to tumble over one another with increasing degrees of lewdness._

"_She is most definitely no longer a child," Gareth spoke, carving the shape of a woman in the air and holding his hands as if he were cupping her breasts. _

"_She is an unspoiled beauty, eh," Simon poked his fist between Gareth's hands._

"_Oh, she is not just unspoiled," William added, "She is ripe."_

_Robin prepared his fist to meet William of Duffield's's jaw._

"_She is…an apparition," Much again spoke out of turn, his words halting his master's swing. Robin turned and glared at his servant not only for speaking out of turn but also for taking part in the lickerous banter. Much did not see Robin's admonishment. Instead his gaze was fixed upon Marian's figure on the balcony of the Great Hall. _

_Robin followed the line of his servant's stare until his own eyes were set upon her. In all his life he'd never seen anything more… exquisite. She wore a bejeweled ruby gown that sat wide at the neckline, revealing her collarbones in all their splendor. The shining red fabric hung gracefully from her shoulders, outlining her bodice before tapering elegantly to the floor. Her silken hair, normally in braids at her shoulders, was rolled into a twist, leaving her neck bare and lengthened. She looked… radiant… she looked… stunning… she looked… exactly like Lady Kate. _

"_She looks just like her," Much dropped his chin toward Robin, attempting to avoid sharing his thoughts with the other noblemen who were laughing and prodding one another and pointing in Marian's direction. _

_Robin heard Much's words but did not reply. Like he'd done on all the recent occasions when he'd found his body reacting to Marian's growing beauty, he attempted to force the thoughts from his mind and calm his racing pulse. He'd always managed to be successful before, but now found that he was unable to do anything but stare. Air left his lungs. Words abandoned him._

_Much continued, "Do you think she knows?" Receiving no reply from Robin, he answered his own question. "She cannot possibly know. She would never wear it if she did." He continued his conversation with himself, "Edward will not be happy." Much turned to see that the Sheriff was already parting the crowd to intercept his daughter as she descended the stairs. "That is uncanny!" _

_Robin was slowly finding himself able to think and found that his fist remained clenched. The chorus of voices began again as the noblemen stepped forward, straightening their tunics and their posture. _

"_That is unbelievable."_

"_That is delicious."_

"_That is a sweet cherry just begging to be popped."_

"_William of Duffield," the group was silenced by Robin's sudden turn from silence to threat, "if you defame even a single hair on her head with your filthy, dishonourable fingers, Edward will be the least of your problems." _

_Robin did not wait for a reply, instead shoving his goblet of red wine into William's chest and heading toward the stairs where Marian was now clearly arguing with her father and Edward was clearly trying to avoid an embarrassing scene. But humiliation became unavoidable once Marian yanked her arm from her father's grasp and ran from the Great Hall in tears. _

"_What's gotten into him?" William looked at Much for an answer._

"_I think you'll find that when it comes to threats to the Lady Marian's honour, my Master does not jest." Raising his nose and chin to the air, Much clumsily navigated his way through the crowded room after his master. _

_The noblemen were left standing, disappointed, fully understanding that the Sheriff's daughter was entirely unavailable. _

---------------

"I owe her such a debt, Much. She cared for the people of Locksley when I could not. And she risks her life every day for the King."

"She does it for you, just as you fight to set things right again so that you can return to Locksley and give her the life she deserves."

"She deserves more than I can ever give her."

"You have always loved her," Much leaned to his master and friend, "even when you didn't know it."

Robin raised his cup, "To Marian."

"To Marian."

Marian purposefully made a loud crunching noise with her feet as she stepped into camp and gave a soft whistle. The men looked at one another, wondering how much of their conversation she'd overheard, but she'd heard it all and had to fight the urge to grab her lover and disappear with him into the forest.

Covering, Robin immediately stood, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

That ego needed to be put down immediately. "And what makes you think that I am here to see you?" She brushed past him, plopped herself into Much's lap, and kissed him on the cheek, "Hello, old friend."

Much turned many shades of red and stammered. "Uh...hello, Milady...uhm...how are the villages tonight?"

"Well, the villages of Nettlestone and Wadlow seem to be fine. Little Jocelyn's fever will not kill her and Widow Thurston was resting comfortably."

"And Locksley?" He was trying to make conversation but was begging her to get up with his eyes.

Marian shrugged her shoulders and shifted her gaze from Much to Robin, who did not recognise that she'd not been to Locksley because he was too preoccupied with the fact that she was sitting in his servant's lap.

She looked back toward Much, "And what have you been up to?" She urged him to play along.

For once, he caught the joke. "Oh, you know, cooking, organizing camp, feeding the poor, saving the throne, keeping _this one_ out of trouble – the usual."

"He did always have a knack for finding trouble, didn't he?" They spoke as if Robin were not present.

"Yes but you were often the cause of that trouble."

"Me!"

"Yes, you. You were always trying to best him. Climbing trees and riding horses. It's a wonder neither of you were killed in childhood."

Marian laughed, "And what about while you were gone, Much? Did he seek out trouble in the King's guard?"

Robin gave Much a severe look as the conversation took this turn he did not approve. He was well aware of what Marian was doing, trying to bring up the Holy Land in the flow of conversation instead of asking him directly. It was sly, and cunning, but she could not get it past him. He warned Much with a shake of the head.

"You don't have to seek out trouble in Palestine, Milady, it finds you."

Robin watched as Marian leaned down and whispered something into Much's ear. Much gave her a puzzled look. Then she leaned in and whispered once more and his puzzlement turned to beaming. Marian stood and began to walk toward Robin.

"Robin, this Lady needs a drink," Much offered, still glowing.

"No, she does not."

"Does she not deserve one?" Marian asked coyly and added a bit of sway to her walk.

Robin stood to meet her, sliding his arms beneath her cape and around her waist. "She deserves as many drinks as she wishes, but she cannot have even one."

"Why?"

"Because, this lady," he lifted her by the waist and spun her, "cannot hold her liquour." Setting her down, he grasped her head in his hands, "And she must be clear headed and observant as she returns to the castle." He planted a kiss on her forehead, allowing his lips to linger before pulling her into an embrace.

Much noted to himself how peaceful they looked. They always seemed to be arguing but now, they looked perfectly content and at peace.

"I should be going," Marian spoke at last. "There is so little darkness this time of year."

Robin released his hold on Marian and tilted his head toward the forest, "Go on, I'll be there in a minute." When she'd gone, he leaned to his friend, "What did she say to you?"

Much stood and crossed his arms with a deep look of satisfaction, indicating that he was not about to tell.

"Come on, Much, tell me."

"She thanked me," his chest was full of pride.

"Thanked you for what?"

"For bringing you home."

Robin nodded, failing to take the opportunity thank his friend as well. Instead he gathered his weapons and followed his love into the forest.

"Which is more than you've ever done, mind you," Much mumbled to himself.

---------------

"I was hoping more of the gang would be awake," Marian began as they walked, "I miss everyone, and I needed a good laugh."

"Come, my Love. You mean to tell me that Gisborne does not have you rolling in stitches?"

"The only person in the castle worth any laughs at all is Allan."

The traitorous name immediately ended the conversation. They walked in silence until, a few minutes outside of camp, he asked her a question. "Marian, where is your dagger?"

"On my back."

"Is it?"

Marian stopped walking and reached her hands around to her back. It wasn't there. The belt was there, but the dagger and its sheath were missing. "It must have fallen off," she wondered, "I did have it when I left the castle." She looked at him and narrowed her eyes a bit, "You are not angry?"

"Did you leave it behind purposefully?"

"No."

"Then what's to be angry about?"

Marian suddenly started darting her head about and peeking around the backs of trees.

"Marian, what are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was with Robin of Locksley a moment ago, but he doesn't seem to be here now."

"Very funny."

"Why are you not berating me for being without a weapon?"

He just looked at her and shrugged but then broke into a sparkling smile. Marian noted that it was not the devilish 'I have a plan' smile or the even more devilish 'you don't want to know what's on my mind' smile, but a nice, genuine smile that she'd seen only a few times in their lives.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting so strangely?"

"I am not acting strangely."

"Yes you are. You are calm and polite and smiling. What's gotten into you?"

He pulled her to him, "You."

Marian thought he was about to kiss her but instead, he opened his hand to reveal a dagger in a fine leather sheath.

"Here," he said, almost in a whisper, "take this."

Marian took the weapon and unsheathed it. The blade shined in the moonlight enough to reveal the filigree engraving. The golden handle had a ruby and emerald inlay, and the butt of the handle had the Locksley symbol carved into it. "Robin, this was your father's."

He nodded, "It has been to Palestine and all the lands in between."

Marian turned the weapon in her hands. It was well balanced. She wondered for a moment how many Saracens had met their end by its blade. "But what if I lose it?"

"I would rather lose it than lose you because you did not have one."

Marian fell in love with him all over again. It was true that what he wanted most of all was to keep her safe and it was true that most of the time keeping her safe meant begging her to stop fighting and be where he could protect her. But, despite how she sometimes felt smothered, it was the moments like this, when he was suddenly quiet and reflective, and even a bit shy, that she found herself overflowing with happiness. No one in the world treated her with as much respect or granted her as much dignity, and any thoughts of jealousy that had possessed her mind earlier in the day were forgotten.

She turned and instantly kissed him, deep and hard, with one leg wrapped around the back of his knees. She swayed a bit, and he slid his arms behind her, allowing her to lean her weight backward as he pressed his body against hers.

He seemed a bit shocked at her sudden ferocity. Pulling back, she patted him on the cheek, "Sometimes, Robin of Locksley, you are thoroughly surprising." She gave him one last kiss, then donned her scarf, mask, and hood and darted into the night.

Robin rubbed his face with his hands and settled them for a moment in front of his nose. "God protect her," he whispered to the night, before turning back to camp.

But apparently God was sleeping that night. He did not prevent the halberd from crossing her shoulders, or the stone from crushing her spine. He did not prevent her mask being cast aside. He paid no mind as the man put his knee to her stomach, and his hands to his buckle and then to her thigh. Did God damn the man for his actions? Did He damn _her _as she pulled the Locksley weapon and drove it deeply into the man's stomach?

When she curled into bed and finally managed to calm her raging mind, one thought would not disappear..._Robin._


	9. Chapter 8 Stealing Away

---------------

Chapter 8

---------------

Sally paced about her home. Lady Marian was right. She needed to leave. The children were not safe. Joseph was old enough now to know what was happening and she found him more and more withdrawn, and if she left now, she could protect the baby from ever knowing. She did have family in Duffield Firth – cousins by her father's brother. All of her siblings had passed on in childhood and there really was no reason to stay, except that Locksley was her home. But it was not home as it had once been, with Guy of Gisborne in charge, and surely, she reasoned, when things were once again set right, Robin would welcome her back.

So she stuffed a few possessions in a sack, slung the baby to her chest, gathered her half-sleeping son and entered the forest. How she would find him, she'd no idea, but she knew she would.

Instead, he found her. Already at the edge of the forest where he had departed from his love, she only had to call his name three or four times before an arrow wooshed past her and lodged into a tree nearby – his signal that he was near and she should stop calling his name.

"Sally?" He noticed her sack of belongings, "Sally, what's wrong?"

"Nigel."

"What did he do?" Robin growled.

"Before he left for the castle, he screamed and yelled because he thinks that you and I are…"

"…are what?"

"He thinks that _protection_ means more than it does."

"What?" Robin let out an exasperated breath, "I guess I should have seen that coming."

"No. No, you were trying to do right, I know, but he would have hit me again if Lady Marian hadn't stopped him."

"Lady Marian?"

"Yes. She was at dinner at Locksley again this evening."

Robin burned inside at thought of Marian dining with Gisborne…twice…in _his_ home.

Sally continued, "I have never seen a woman with such courage. She stood in front of him and ordered him away, threatening to remove him from the Locksley lands."

Robin tried with great difficulty to hide his pride. It seemed Marian was determined to function as Lady Locksley whether they were married and present or not. "I would banish him if I'd the power."

"I know."

"Where can you go?"

"I have an uncle, aunt, and cousins on Duffield Firth." She looked at him hopefully and he knew what she was asking.

"Well, that is but one day's journey, perhaps two with a wagon and children. And I did know Sir William very well once. I fought with his father. Perhaps I can speak with him."

She rushed forward and hugged him, and he held her momentarily with the baby between them. "Everything will be fine," he assured her, and assured himself, for he'd no idea if Willliam of Duffield would even receive him.

Much did not like the sight as he came over the hill with his weapon at the ready, the other members of the gang close behind. "I heard someone shouting your name. Is everything alright?"

Robin and Sally turned quite red, realizing how the situation looked.

"Yes Much," Robin assured him, "everything is fine." He looked to the big man, "John, you will be in charge for the next three days while I take Sally and the children to her family in Derbyshire."

Much called Robin aside with his eyes and spoke through clenched teeth, "Robin, you should not travel alone….It is not safe…_and_…you should not travel alone with _her_."

"Much, you know very well that I owe this to her. I have to do this." He captured Much's eyes with his own, "It is my duty to do this. And do not be concerned, we will travel as a brother with his widowed sister, alright?"

Much reluctantly nodded.

"Good. Now, you will need to meet Marian in the market on Thursday to tell her where I've gone. Tell her that I love her and I will visit when I get back."

They stepped back to the group and Robin addressed them. "Will, John, please acquire a wagon and some horses." He turned to Sally, "Is there anything you need in Locksley?"

"There is a chest, beneath the bedding in the corner. It contains some of my mother's things for sewing. I should like to have it if it is not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all. Much and Djaq can retrieve it. We will leave first thing in the morning."

"And where will we stay tonight?"

"In camp, of course, but you will need to be blindfolded on the way there, for your own protection." He knelt down in front Joseph, who was clearly frightened by this whole situation. "Joseph, do you know who I am?"

"You're the man from the window."

"Yes, I am the man from the window," he smiled. "I am also Robin Hood."

Much and Djaq looked at one another and shook their heads. There was nothing that fed Robin's ego more than the adoration of children.

"You are Robin Hood?" the child looked to his mother for affirmation. She smiled and nodded.

"Yes. How would you like to spend the night in Robin Hood's secret camp?" Robin pushed the child in the belly with a finger.

Joseph could not speak for excitement and vigorously nodded.

"Very well. We have to put your blindfold on now, okay?"

"But how will I walk?"

"Well, you can ride on my shoulders. Would that be alright with you?" The boy jumped into his arms, nearly causing him to lose his balance. "I guess that's a yes then," he stood with the child and looked at Sally. Much and Djaq blindfolded mother and child, before heading to Locksley to retrieve Sally's chest. Robin led her by the hand to camp, with the child gleefully gripping his hair for balance.

Sally felt a sense of relief she'd not felt in a long time and fought an old longing within her of which she dared not speak. Yes, leaving was definitely best, before she got into an entirely different kind of trouble than she was already in.

---------------

Very few things made Allan-a-dale rise early in the morning; but among those few things were kitchen maids, and there had been a recent addition to the castle staff. Maddie, a slight lass with a long, ginger braid down her back and a few freckles on her cheek was motivation enough to rise early. And so, having collected the smile and kiss he was seeking, he went strolling into the yard and plopped himself into a pile of hay by the wall to wait for Guy.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into the soft pile but was disturbed by raindrops on his head. Staring at the sky, he found it puzzling that it could rain without clouds. He reached up and wiped his forehead only to find blood dripping from his fingers. Immediately, he scrambled from the pile of hay and noticed that an entire patch of it was stained with the gruesome liquid that seemed to have no source. He put his hand up to shield his eyes and peered into the sky above him, noticing two circling vultures he'd not seen before.

He ran to the turret and ascended the stairs to the western wall where he found a guard's body, face down in a pool of blood, and with his bare, lily-white bottom soaking up the sun. Glad that he'd not yet eaten, he found his stomach turning at the sight. Allan rolled the body, immediately reaching down to pull up the trousers, when the helmet fell, revealing the face. Emanating from the wound in his side was a dagger – a gold-handled dagger with emeralds and rubies inlaid in the handle and an unmistakable identifying mark. "When did he start stabbing guards?" Allan muttered.

He surveyed the scene around him. Something was awry. Why on earth would Robin lower the man's trousers when he killed him, unless, perhaps, the guard was relieving himself against the wall? In fact, why would he kill him at all? Sure, Allan had seen Robin take men down, but never on an evening jaunt to the castle. No, he was definitely missing something. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an object lying in a deep shadow in the corner where the wall met the turret. "Marian," he whispered, then put his hand to his mouth as he assembled the pieces into an image of what had happened. An image too disturbing for any extended thought.

"Where is Allan?" Gisborne's voice was unmistakably loud as he entered the castle gates. "Find him! I need him for an important task."

Allan pulled the dagger from the body and stuffed the evidence beneath his vest, wiping the blood from his hands on his pants. Wearing black had advantages. "Eh, look up," he shouted to Guy, "I think there's something here that'd interest you."

"Really?" the Black Knight asked, dismissing the idea that anything Allan had to show him could be as important as what he had to say.

"Yeah."

"Allan, come down immediately."

"Alright then," Allan muttered to himself and quickly descended the stairs of the turret. "What is it?"

"For the next few days, the Sheriff and I will be traveling on important business. I am assigning you to look after Locksley."

"Me?" Allan asked. He did indeed seem to be earning a bit of respect.

"Yes, stay there at night and make sure that the guards are mindful of their duties and that no peasants become unruly."

"Where're you headed, then?"

"Let's just say it is a matter of business. Now, where is the Lady Marian?"

Allan shrugged his shoulders, "Haven't seen her." He assumed she was in her quarters, and in fact had been about to head there himself.

"I must speak with her before I go."

"Uh, Guy…"

"If you wish to speak with me you'll have to follow me."

"Right," Allan followed at a quick pace through the corridors toward Lady Marian's chambers, "this morning I found a guard dead on the Western wall."

Guy stopped walking, but only momentarily, "Dead? What do you mean dead?"

"I mean dead. Stabbed more like it. Blood everywhere."

"Have we blocked enough entrances that Hood has taken to scaling the walls?"

Allan again shrugged, "Surely Robin would leave a sign though, an arrow or somethin', you know, to let the Sheriff know he was here."

"Nothing Hood does would surprise me," Gisborne dismissed the topic then knocked on Marian's door. "Marian, I need to speak with you." No one answered. "Marian?"

At long last, Sarah, Marian's maid poked her head out the door. "My Lady is not available at the moment, Sir Guy. She is bathing."

Allan's concern, if that was what he was feeling, grew.

"It is a matter of some urgency. Marian?" Gisborne spoke past the maid, "Marian, I must see you and I cannot wait. The Sheriff expects me."

"Can you return in a bit?" asked Sarah, "She really is otherwise occupied at the moment."

"No, it cannot wait," he put his foot to the door and then pushed it open and brushed past the woman. "Marian, I must speak…"

"Guy!" Marian shouted from the bathwater. She had been vaguely aware of voices at the door but was in a daze, staring at the rose petals floating on the water's surface and unaware that anyone had entered until his heavy footsteps shook her from her stupor. She quickly pulled her knees to her chest to ensure that nothing could be seen through her bathing shirt. He abruptly turned his back.

"I am sorry, Marian, but it is a matter of some urgency."

"Oh?" She signaled for Sarah to bring her robes.

"Yes. I apologize for leaving you to return from Locksley on your own two evenings in a row."

Marian jostled her head as she attempted to recall the previous days' events, but the previous evenings events on the wall buried the days beneath anxiety, fear, and a tightness in the chest that impeded breathing. She had great difficulty fending off Guy with her usual guile. She gathered her thoughts. _Supper. Right. Supper at Locksley._

"It is alright, Sir Guy. I am a capable rider, and I was able to find my way perfectly well." She rose from the bathwater, wrapped herself in her robes, and signaled for Sarah to remain but to step to the corner of the room.

"You enjoyed yourself, then, at Locksley?" His back was turned but she could imagine the smirk on his face, the smirk to the side accompanied by a small tilt of the head.

"Of course." She wanted him gone.

"And you said in your letter that you looked forward to dining with me again."

No such luck. "Locksley is a fine estate, Guy. I should think that any person would be pleased to visit."

He turned to her, and she found her back pressed against the poster of the bed. "I am not asking about any people, I am asking about you." He pinched the fabric at the shoulder of her silken white robes then ran his fingers lightly down her arm, "Would you be pleased to call it your home?"

Marian caught herself cringing and froze. Did he see her? As his fingers descended along her arm it felt as if an army of tiny ants was crawling down her spine. Her hands began to shake a bit, and she fought to calm them. She heard him repeat her name as through a fog.

"Marian…" he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, then ran his leather-clad hand through her hair, tucking the long curls behind her ear and shoulder. He lowered his face toward the newly revealed skin of her neck. "Marian," he whispered, "would you be pleased to call it your home?"

Marian fought to keep her senses. Her mind was spinning. She saw a flash of helmet, the stain of blood, and felt the reminiscence of pain in her spine. _Robin_.

She jumped back, gasping. "Guy?"

"Marian, are you well?"

"Yes, yes, I am quite well." She summoned her courage, managing to look directly into his eyes and found the strength to keep from cracking, "Sir Guy, what was the urgent matter about which you wished to speak with me?"

"I had intended to ask you to supper again this evening, but the Sheriff and I are going away on urgent business and so I am unable."

"Is this the business that called you away from Locksley?"

"Yes. It is an errand for Prince John…of the utmost importance."

_Focus._ The words – business Prince John, and utmost importance – were red flags of treason. _Focus._ "Really? And where might this errand be taking you?"

"I cannot say, but we will not be gone more than a week as Prince John does not wish to risk the Sheriff's absence for any longer than necessary."

"Alright then, we shall dine upon your return."

"Would that please you?"

She gripped his upper arm with her hand and gave it a squeeze, managing only to say, "Yes."

As she dropped her arm, he caught it and raised it to his lips, gave another sideways smirk and then turned. As he passed through the door, he grabbed Allan by his vest, "Do _not_ let anything happen while I am gone!"

"No worries, my friend, no worries"

"Pffff," Guy trudged off and joined the Sheriff in the courtyard, either forgetting or not caring that there was a dead guard on the western wall.

Allan noticed that Marian shuddered once she was out of Guy's view. She stood still and took a deep breath, which, at its peak, hitched in her throat for a moment. She only managed to release the air upon hearing Allan's voice.

"Maz? You alright?"

"Hmmm?" She stared out the window.

Allan made the bold step of speaking to Marian's servant, "Sarah, would you excuse us?"

The servant looked to her mistress. Marian seemed a world away, but did not object, so she left.

Allan was rarely at a loss for words, but how was he going to approach this? He couldn't just ask, "Marian were you violated?" No, Marian was not the type to give such information, though she was clearly shaken by whatever had transpired. Instead, he took a different approach, one much more subtle, he thought. "Marian, was Robin here last night?"

"Allan-a-Dale, need I remind you again to whom…"

"No, you needn't remind me."

"He was not here."

"You are sure."

"Allan, he was not here."

Very slowly, he pulled the dagger from under his vest, "Then, did you lose this?"

Marian turned to see the bloodied weapon in his hands and recoiled in horror, placing her hand across her mouth. She backed away until she cornered herself against the wall. The flashes came again, more intensely this time – helmet, belt, dagger, blood. "No," she could barely find her voice. A feeling of dread, beginning deep in her abdomen, ravaged her body. The image of the water, swirling with blood returned to her and then…_Robin_.

"Marian? Marian, you alright?" He stepped toward her, causing her to slide sideways along the wall as if evading a trap. He watched as Marian gathered her travel satchel from under her bed and began to fill it with clothing, jewels, and writing materials. She took the green emerald ring from its hiding place and clenched it in her hand before tucking it away.

Marian had only one thought on her mind, getting out of the castle. Gisborne was leaving, and she needed to be away from this place, away from it all. For one of few times in her life, her instinct was to run.

"Marian, what happened?"

"I am leaving." Her mind spun. _Where?_ To the forest. Oh, to have a few days in the safety and security of the forest….

She immediately stopped packing. She could not go to the forest. He'd warned her. He'd asked her to stop. He'd said this would happen. How could she face that? How could she face _him_? What would he say? How would he…_react_? And she could not return without reason. No. If she went back, he would know that something was wrong.

"Obviously. Right but," Allan dared to touch her arm, "I asked what happened."

She immediately started and pulled away. "I cannot remember," she replied, quietly. "Where did you get that?"

"It's Robin's, yeah?"

"Yes, it is. Allan, tell me where you got it," she ordered, tentatively.

"Pulled it from the stomach of a guard on the wall."

Marian nodded in confirmation.

Allan removed the other item from his vest, "Found this as well."

The mask was torn. As she reached for it, her hands shook once again. Having used all of her energy to fend away Gisborne, she now failed to fight the tremors.

Allan's voice was one of both concern and accusation, "So it was you, then?"

"Yes." She continued to stare alternately at the mask in her hands and out the window. "I had no choice. He…" She changed course, "Did you know him?"

"Yeah. Nigel was a decent bloke."

"Nigel! Nigel from Locksley?"

"Well, yeah."

_Oh, dear God. _

She'd killed the man. Not a great man, no doubt, not even a good man, but still a man whose nose she'd purposefully turned out of the mud two days prior.

Sally. The children. They were now without husband and father. But they were surely better off, were they not?

And she'd killed a man. She'd had no choice.

The sense of flight turned her mind again toward escape. She returned to a whirlwind of activity, packing and thinking quickly. Where could she go? Her father's brother was long dead and his wife had never liked her mother. Her father's younger sister had married a man who lived far to the south. No, it would have to be her mother's people, whom she'd not seen in more than a dozen years.

Allan attempted to be reassuring, "Not to worry. I found him first, I think, and I claimed those," he pointed to the dagger and mask on the desk, "before anyone else saw them." He needed to continue. He needed to ask if she'd been hurt, but he could not find the courage to do so. "Where are you headed then? To the forest? I can come to warn you when Guy gets back."

Marian paid him no mind. "Allan, do something for me. Take that," she pointed at the dagger, "to Robin in the market on Thursday."

"Not to the forest then?"

"No," was her simple reply.

"Well what do I tell Robin? He'll want to know why you are not in the market."

"You will tell him _nothing_."

"Come on, Marian."

She stepped toward him and spat words at him, "Allan-a-dale, as you owe me your life, you will not utter a _word_ about this to Robin." She composed herself. "It is simply a dagger I asked you to return."

"Marian, this is Robin we're talking about. You know as well as I do that when he meets me in the market instead of you, he's going to sneak in here to find you gone."

Familiar words rang in her ears. _Wherever you go, Robin will move heaven and earth, he will find you._ "Make something up to keep him from doing so. You are good enough at fabrications."

"And what do I tell Guy if you are not back before he returns?"

"The same." She walked passed him to the door.

Allan wondered if she was _completely_ out of her head and stopped her. "Marian, are you going to leave in your robes?"

She threw the satchel to the floor and took a dress from it. "Turn away."

He did. Last chance to ask her, but he could not. _Coward_.

"There," she indicated that she had finished. As she reached for the door's handle she paused and seemed to stare at her hand. The world that was swirling about her stopped. Then she rolled back her shoulders and raised her chin and spoke with the conviction of a converter of pagans, "He was not a decent bloke, Allan. Mark my words, he was not." She turned to look at him, "Make sure that the people of Locksley are fed while you are there."

"Right," he nodded.

"Right." She left.


	10. Chapter 9 The Road to Derby

**A/N: Off in Bones Fanfic Land, I have often found that the best Booth/Bones fics are ones where they are talking about one another with people other than the two of them. I think this chapter has that quality for Robin and Marian. I hope that you will agree….**

**Also, I am aware that Nottingham and Derby are not far enough apart for travel to take days, even in the Middle Ages, so just pretend they are further apart than they are….**

---------------

Chapter 9

---------------

"Mother says that you fought with King," the small and thoroughly inquisitive child turned to Robin as he guided the wagon along the mud-caked road through the forest to Derby. The springtime rains had extended into summer, it seemed, and though it was no longer raining, their slow progress meant that they needed to camp in the forest for the night.

Robin gave Sally a look that told her to stop encouraging such questions, "Yes, I fought with the King."

"Did you kill the evil Saracens?"

"The Saracen is not evil, Joseph. He is just different. We would do better talking to him than killing him."

"Mother says that papa has gone to fight in the wars too. That's why we are leaving. Because he might never come home and we shall have to learn to live without him."

Robin looked at Sally with a mix of accusation and pity. "Well, it will be dark soon. We should stop and camp here for the night, but we should arrive in Derby tomorrow morning. Robin pulled the wagon to a stop. "Joseph, go and gather some firewood." Sally put her hand on Robin's arm, clearly afraid to lose the boy.

Robin jumped from the wagon and called the boy back. "Joseph, can you make this sound?" He knelt in front of the child and made a bird call, "Try it."

Joseph made the sound on the first try.

"Good!" Robin was pleased with the boy's ability. "Go and stand behind that tree and listen for my call and then you call back." The boy once again responded correctly. Robin signaled for him to return. "Now, you go and fetch some firewood and if you hear me make that call, then you call back, okay?" The boy nodded. "And if you need anything or you feel scared or lost, you make that call and I will come to find you." He patted the child, who skipped happily into the wood.

Sally was overwhelmed. She tried to push the thoughts aside, but the man before her was a far better man than she'd ever imagined from the youth who had lured her into the forest. She knew that what appeared to her son to be protection for him was really meant as peace of mind for her.

Robin turned to find Sally staring at him and smiling, and he was suddenly very self conscious, "A game from childhood." He offered Sally a hand from the wagon.

"He deserves to think that his father was an honourable man," she stepped down to face him, "not a drunken bastard."

Robin clenched his hands together and straightened his arms, clearly uncomfortable, "I am glad we had the forsight to save some of the vegetables from lunch. Still, I need to go hunting."

"Speaking of supper," Sally glanced at the child in her arms, beginning to fuss.

"Ah yes, well…" Robin took a chest from the wagon and set it upon the ground. "Here, sit here."

He turned his back to give her privacy and began to build a ring for the fire, clearing leaves and stacking a few rocks. Attempting to start a casual conversation he asked, "Sally, what is in the chest?"

"Cloth. Thread. Needles. Patterns."

"Patterns?"

"Yes," She stood with the child. "Here open it."

"No, that's fine. I didn't mean to pry."

"You are not prying. Please, open it."

Robin followed her instructions and carefully opened the top. Inside was a tray full of pins, needles, and spools of thread. Lifting the tray from the box, he found beneath it plain muslin patterns for ladies dresses.

"Go ahead," Sally said, "take them out and look at them."

He brushed the dirt from his hands and followed her direction. As he turned each pattern in his hands, he noticed that each one had a symbol sewn along its edge. He recognized many of them. "What are these for?"

"Those tell whose pattern it is. Every noblewoman in the shire was a different size and shape and my mother had patterns for each of them. That way she did not have to measure them every time."

Robin began to speed through the fabric, looking for the one he knew was there. Lady Patterson...Lady Bisley...Lady Glaston...Lady Knighton...........Lady Locksley. "Is this?"

"It is your mother's."

The Locksley symbol was sewn in brown thread along the waistline of the bodice. Robin ran his finger over it, feeling the ridge between the thread and fabric. Closing his eyes, he raised the fabric to his nose. It was old and musty, of course, and smelled nothing of his mother, and yet somehow the smell seemed to bring her close. Overcome, Robin quickly replaced the objects to their home and layed the tray on top, clumsily closing the lid and motioning for Sally to sit. When he looked up, he was glad to see a pile of wood with legs walking toward him. He chuckled, "No, wait Joseph I…"

He was too late. The child tripped over the newly placed fire ring and sticks went tumbling everywhere. He immediately stood to see if the child was injured, but Joseph had crawled beneath the wagon.

Robin began to gather the sticks and looked up to see Sally had turned on her makeshift bench, her eyes wet at the sight of her child. Only then did it dawn on him why the child was hiding. "Joseph, do you want to help me build the fire?"

The boy nodded.

"Well you can't do that from under the wagon. Come on," he offered the boy a hand, but the child continued to sit with his knees curled to his chest. "Joseph, I am not going to beat you. I promise." He moved over and began stacking the sticks in the ring. Joseph crept out from under the wagon and gathered a stick. He tossed it on the pile from a distance. "That's right," Robin encouraged him. "Now go and get the others and bring them to the pile."

Very soon the boy was working to stack the wood within the ring, Sally was continuing to feed the infant, and Robin found himself hungry and staring at the ingredients for stew without a servant to prepare it. _Well, it can't be that difficult. I can make a stew_. He pulled out the leftover turnips and beans. He'd seen Much do it a thousand times. Tossing a vegetable into the air and letting it flip once before catching it again, he began to run his blade along the fiberous root. "Ow!" he declared, as the knife slipped and sliced his thumb.

Sally was laughing. "Robin of Locksley, I declare you have never sliced a turnip in your life!" She tied the child to her breast with a wrap and motioned for his weapon, "Give me the knife," she declared. "Why don't you go and see if you can find us some meat for this stew?"

"Now that I can do."

He grabbed his weapon and retreated into the forest, relieved to be away from the situation that threatened to flood him with memories of adolescence. It had been more than a decade since his mother's death. He found his memory of her was faded and washed, and he could no longer bring her features clearly to mind. He had her light brown hair and his father had told him that the sparkle in his eye was hers, but he could not really remember what she looked like or smelled like or what her voice sounded like. Before he'd left for the Holy Land, he and Marian would sit in the fields above Locksley and try to remember. It was even more difficult for Marian, becuase she had been younger when her mother died. She always reminded him that Lady Sarah expected him to be a gentleman, and he would remind her that Lady Katherine's boldness, clearly evident in her daughter, was going to get her into trouble.

He returned to camp in near darkness with a pheasant in tow.

"Peasant!" Sally exclaimed, "Aren't we lucky."

Robin stepped away from camp to prepare the bird, another task normally reserved for Much, but he was not about to lose face in front of Sally again. When he returned, he asked a question seeming completely disconnected from the raw meat in his hands. "Sally, how quickly can you make a dress?"

"That depends upon the dress."

"A simple one. Plain silk with some beading at the neck."

"Two days. Possibly three. Why?" She smiled, knowing exactly who the dress was for.

"Just wondered."

---------------

All through dinner Joseph continued to question Robin as he had in the wagon, to the point that would make nearly anyone vain. Robin relished the attention and Sally relished watching her son with a hero. By the end of the meal Robin had described each of the outlaws and their roles in the gang. John, he said, had a heart to match his size. "His first priority is always feeding the people," Robin said. Djaq, the Saracen, was not only a skilled warrior, but also a skilled physician, who cared for the gang and the sick of Nottingham. Will Scarlett, the quiet carpenter, was one of the most noble men he'd ever met, and had built them a home in the forest with his hands. "And Much," Robin said, "Much is my most loyal friend. He went to war with me, you know, and he gave up just as much as me to fight the Sheriff."

"What about the Nightwatchman?"

"The Nightwatchman?"

"Isn't he in your gang?"

"No, the Nightwatchman is not in my gang."

"Don't you know him?"

Robin smiled at the thought of his love. She would blush if she heard the child speaking of her. "Well yes, yes I do know him. I owe a great debt to the Nightwatchman. He cared for the people of Locksley and Nottingham while I was away."

"Why does he wear a mask?"

"He wears a mask so that no one will know who he is."

"Don't you know who he is?"

He wanted so much to declare it to the world. "No. I don't. I only know him as the Nightwatchman. I've never seen him without his mask."

"Why don't you wear a mask? Then the Sheriff will not know that you are Robin Hood."

Robin laughed and looked across to Sally, who joined him in laughter. "That's enough questions Joseph, time for sleep."

"But I want to hear another story!"

"Okay. One more," Robin offered, "But you must lie down as you listen and promise that when it is finished you will go to sleep." The boy nestled into blankets beside him. "Deep in Sherwood forest," Robin began, "there is a tree. A wide, old tree fallen accross the river. It is a calm and peaceful place with grasses and flowers growing among the wide flat rocks along the riverbank – a wonderful spot for swimming. But it was not always a peaceful place. You see, only the fiercest of storms could bring down such a tree, and on the night that this tree fell, two children were lost in the forest."

"Is this a scary story?" The boy sat up.

Sally warned Robin with a motherly look.

"There are some scary parts, I suppose, but it has a happy ending, I promise."

The boy settled in and Robin continued, "These two children, they loved to ride their horses in Sherwood…"

"How old were they?" Joseph interrupted once more.

"Well, the little girl was ten and the boy was nearly fourteen."

"No more questions Joseph, remember?" his mother softly offered a reminder and he lowered his head to the blanket once more.

"Where was I?" Robin asked, "Oh yes, these two children loved to ride their horses in Sherwood, and on this day they had ventured farther into the forest then either had ever been before. They had been riding all afternoon when the sky turned dark and dreary."

The boy was entranced. So was Sally. Robin continued the story, being careful not to identify the names of the children, though it was obvious to Sally that he was telling a story about himself and a young Lady Marian.

---------------

"_There is a storm coming, Marian. We should go home." _

_Thunder rolled in the distance. She kicked her pony toward home._

"_Marian, where are you going?"_

"_Home."_

"_Home is east."_

"_I know."_

"_That is south."_

"_No it isn't." _

"_Yes it is. Look at the..." But the sun had disappeared beneath a thick blanket of dark grey clouds. Thunder rolled again, closer than they would have liked and their horses shifted and whimpered. _

"_Alright," Robin said, "Let's go back and follow the river." They'd just crossed it, not a mile back. _

"_Fine." Marian could not quite bring herself to say, "Agreed." _

_They retraced their steps back to the river, following the hoof prints they'd made moments before. Thunder rolled again, this time more closely on the heels of the lightning. Robin's horse reared, anxious at the inclement weather and sensing its handler's nervousness. The sky opened upon them as if all the angels were emptying their buckets. The rain was so hard that neither could really see the other nor the trail in front of them. They did not hear or see the river until their horses stopped short on the banks, and the body of water that was moments before passable had transformed to a rushing torrent._

_Robin found his way to Marian and shouted over the rain and thunder, "We'll ride along the bank to town." _

_She nodded._

"_You first," he ordered, remembering that when he'd been small, his father had always ordered him to ride ahead in order to watch him. On this day, his mother, wishing to inspire responsibility in her son had whispered to him upon departure, 'Remember, Robin you are responsible for Marian when she is riding with you.' He was glad that, for once, Marian did not argue. _

_They'd gotten barely half a mile, to a spot where the riverbank became rocky and the river much deeper, making it something less of a torrent. Their horses struggled for footing on the mud and rocks. The piercing drops stung their eyes and every few seconds the lightning lit the forest in silhouette. The trees were giants. They seemed alive – as if their violently swaying branches were begging for mercy from the gods of the sky. _

_Suddenly, a bolt crashed on the opposite riverbank, so close that they heard it buzzing through the air. The thunder, following immediately on the heels of the strike was so loud that it was painful in their ears. The horses reared, throwing both riders to the ground. _

_When Robin came to, he saw Marian standing over him. She was shouting his name, though all he could see was her lips moving. Then, over her shoulder, he saw a horrifying sight. A giant was falling toward them, its arms reaching out to grab Marian and engulf her whole. He scrambled to his feet and pulled her by the hand, "Marian, run!" The giant gained ground as it fell toward them, but they were just beyond its reach. Its top crashed to the ground, spraying their backs with sticks and splinters, and throwing them to the ground. _

_They looked at one another with wide eyes and heavy breaths, scared out of their minds. _

"_Are you alright?" Robin examined her, checking for cuts and bruises. She had sticks in her hair and a small cut on her cheek from where her face had hit the ground, but she seemed to be fine._

"_Yes. Are you okay?" _

_Robin attempted not to show his fear. _

"_I guess we'll have to walk to Nottingham."_

"_No Marian, it is not safe. We should stay here. Look," he said, pointing to the dead giant. The fallen tree which moments before had been attacking them was now the perfect refuge from the storm. Its thick foliage made effective cover from the teeming drops. Climbing into the branches, they allowed the canopy to offer some protection. _

_With her knees pulled to her chest and her chin upon her knees, Marian spoke first, "Robin?"_

"_Yes?" he answered from an identical position._

"_Are you scared?"_

"_No. Are you?"_

"_No. Are you cold?"_

"_No. Are you?"_

"_No."_

_And so neither cold, and neither scared, they huddled together under the fallen tree and drifted asleep, only to be found the next morning by a very worried Sheriff of Nottingham. _

---------------

Robin covered Joseph in a blanket and then walked to Sally's side of the fire. "Asleep at last."

Sally just looked at him, her conflicted emotions writing both thanks and longing on her face. She blinked and a tear ran down her cheek.

"Hey," he put a hand on her shoulder, "it's alright. I told you, everything will be fine. You...shall have a new life, and you will make the finest dresses in Derby."

Sally finally spoke her mind, "What has happened to you?"

"What?" Robin was entirely confused.

"You, Robin of Locksley, were a silver-tongued devil, you were. Always playful, never serious, and full of witty lines designed to lure the girls of the shire into the forest. And as I recall, I fell for it on more than one occasion."

Robin shifted in discomfort. It was true, and he dared not expose the emotion that her truth-telling created within him. Still, the words he spoke were an honest response, "I hope you will allow, Sally, that years of war abroad and injustice at home can make a boy into a man."

"Yes, but I never imagined you would become so..._noble_."

"Sally, I never acted toward you as a nobleman should."

She leaned toward him with a slight lilt to her voice. "On the contrary, I would say that you were acting as all nobleman do."

"That doesn't make it right."

They fell into awkward silence. Robin looked at the leaves on the forest floor. He was perfectly comfortable accepting the adoration of children as Robin Hood, but to hear this woman speak of him in such intimate terms was more than disconcerting. He looked up at her. Over the course of his life he'd become very familiar with what a woman looked like when she was willing. He could think of a thousand lines he might speak that would cause her to melt beneath his fingertips, and he noted to himself how distant that part of him seemed. "You should get some sleep, Sally."

"I cannot sleep in the forest," she lied, for the forest had nothing to do with her inability to sleep. "I did not sleep last night and I'm sure I shall be awake tonight as well. You sleep."

"I can go many days without," Robin said.

"There's no reason this needs to be one of those days," she smiled. "Please, you have worked hard to make good time today despite the condition of the road and I'm sure that preparing that stew took the last bit of energy you had," she chided. "It's alright. I cannot sleep out of doors. Sleep for a bit and if I get tired, I will wake you."

He nodded, assumed a position near the fire, drifted to sleep.

Sally sat, her mind spinning, her body filled with sensations she'd not felt in a very long time. No, she admonished herself, and attempted to push away thoughts of the man sleeping across from her. She spoke to her daughter, "I'm glad you will have no memory of your father. He was not a good man," she tapped the child's nose, "though he did give me you." The child began to cry and she put it to her breast, "We shall start a new life, little one. We shall make the finest dresses for the women of Derbyshire."

---------------

Marian settled in for her first night within her cousins' home. They'd been welcoming enough, considering the shocked looks on their faces upon her arrival. She'd had to explain who she was because her younger cousins, whom she'd never met, had refused her entry to the home. But their mother, the woman Lady Kate had always referred to as Cousin Ellen, recognized Marian immediately. Insisting that Marian call her "Aunty," she had showered pity upon the "orphaned child." All day, they had insisted that she relax and participate in an embroidery circle. Normally, this type of activity would have been to Marian the epitome of domestic dullness. What she really wanted to do was go riding. It was how she'd always forgotten her cares – racing across the fields or through the forest at a full gallop, her hair free to blow in the wind. But her horse could not run forever, and on the journey to her cousin's home she found that the moment she slowed the animal, allowing her attention to drift, she'd been unable to push the flashes from her mind. They were filling in, slowly, and she nearly fell from her horse when a new one would come before her. And so, she supposed that being alone would only force her into her own thoughts and was appreciative for the company, hoping that her imperfect stitches would not blemish the fine work of her cousins too much.

The night crept upon her and she'd stayed in the main parts of the manor for as long as she could – until every last servant with whom she might engage in conversation had retired. Finally forced into her own, temporary quarters (though how temporary she could not be certain), she stared at the bed and dreaded entering its folds. But, as one who always dove straight into her fears, she changed into her night clothes and got in, removing the heavier blankets not required in summer and pulling only the sheet over her shoulders.

_No_, she admonished herself, _stop thinking of him!_ She'd survived for five years without him, though, if she was honest with herself, she'd spent nearly three of those years thinking of him as she was now. Still, she'd become a woman without his input or interference. She fought for the people just as he did. She could deal with this on her own. She didn't _need _him. She didn't. So why, every time she felt the images flood her mind, was it his name that broke the cycle?

For the second night in a row, she sweated and shook and shifted in her sleep, pushing with her legs as if attempting to force someone from a position over her. It always ended the same way – her attacker's face, buried beneath a helmet, was before her, eyes wide open in shock at the blade that had just entered his side. Then he fell dead upon her. She would startle awake, feeling the warmth of his blood rushing over her, and sit straight up in bed with the same word always on her lips…_Robin_.

---------------

Robin sat bolt upright in the forest, "Marian…"

He didn't realise he'd said it out loud until he heard Sally's voice, "Robin, is something wrong?"

"Sorry?" He was not quite awake.

"Is something wrong?" She repeated.

"No, why?"

"Because you just awoke with a start," she added coyness to her voice, "with the Lady Marian's name upon your lips."

Robin released his breath, "I'm sorry, I was dreaming. I think that telling that story to Joseph brought back too many memories of childhood." Robin attempted to look like he was going back to sleep.

"You still love her, don't you?"

He tried to show he was ignoring her by keeping his eyes closed and fluffing the pile of clothing that made his pillow, "Why would I love what I cannot have?"

"Because the heart does not always do as the mind orders." Her statement failed to get a reaction from him so she chose bluntness, "The two of you need to be more careful."

Now, his eyes shot open.

"The dress," she informed him.

"What?"

"The green dress over your shoulder."

Robin looked puzzled.

"Lady Marian wore it when she visited me the following day – the morning that she saved me from Nigel."

"Oh."

"And you both make remarks about Robin Hood having people everywhere."

"Oh." Robin made a note to warn Marian not to utter that phrase any longer.

"And Robin…"

"Yes?" He was fighting every urge to smile.

"You glow when you speak of her. Even though you tried to dismiss it as the past, I could see it on your face when I accused you of being 'entranced.' And when you were telling Joseph the story earlier…Robin, it was written all over your face."

That face was now turning crimson, "Yes, well, I suppose I'm not nearly as good at hiding it as she." Robin was unsure what to say next, but it felt wonderful to have someone with whom to speak about her.

"You never were good at hiding it, you know."

"Only from myself," he mumbled

"What does that mean?"

Robin was not about to go further, "Nothing, nevermind. Go to sleep." He straightened his "pillow" once again.

There was only a short period of silence before he began to think aloud. The freedom was liberating. "I did not realise how much I loved her until I was gone and then it was too late. I ached for her. Saw her face everywhere. But, knowing that she hated me and that she would surely be married upon my return, I threw myself into war."

"And she did not marry."

"No, and so upon my return the ache came back, only stronger because she was…she was…"

"The Nightwatchman?"

Robin immediately rose and was standing over her in two strides. He spoke with a voice that suddenly turned from one fogged with thoughts of his love to one fiercely protecting that love. "Sally, who gave you that information?" he demanded.

Sally cowered a bit beneath him and swallowed hard. His eyes were suddenly fierce, his jaw terse. "No one," she closed her eyes and shook her head, clinging to the baby, "no one gave me that information."

Realizing his error, he knelt on the ground in front of her. "I'm sorry, Sally. It's just that..." He sat back onto his heels, "How do you know?"

"I didn't. I just suspected."

"Until I just confirmed it," he cursed himself. "But what made you suspicious?"

"Well, the Nightwatchman visited and came right up to me to hand me some medicine. His eyes seemed gentle and soft when he looked at me, and he was no taller than I. Then he took my hand and squeezed it in reassurance. Lady Marian visited me the next day and she did the same. She took my hand and looked into my eyes and…I could tell."

"You are very observant Sally."

"I learned to be that way. Observing Nigel's behaviour is the only way I can tell what type of mood he is in and whether or not the children are in any danger."

Robin offered her a pitying look.

Sally turned to more positive thoughts, "She is inspiring, though – so strong. I would never have imagined that a noblewoman would place herself in so much danger on behalf of the poor."

"Yes, well, Marian is not an ordinary noblewoman."

"No, no, she's not. She showed such courage when she stood up to Nigel. I can understand why you love her." She reached for Robin's arm, causing him to turn away again for blushing. "So, tell me, why is she not with you?"

He finally collapsed his bottom to the forest floor and relaxed, "Because she is the only one I can trust."

Sally finished his thought, "To feed you information."

He looked at her and nodded, whispering, "yes." Then he closed is eyes and took advantage of the rare opportunity to have someone to talk to, "And now the ache is worse than it has ever been because I love her more than I ever have and I cannot protect her. In fact, she insists that she is protecting me because somehow, despite all of my errors, she apparently finds it in her heart to still love me."

"Well," Sally smiled, "I can't imagine that that is very difficult."

For the third time, fever rose to his face. He returned to his bed on the forest floor and rolled onto his side to face away from her, "Sally…"

"I know," she cut him off as he was turning back to face her, "No one can know. It would endanger her…and you. You needn't worry yourself for my knowing. Get some sleep."

Robin pretended to do so and listened to Sally as she spoke to her baby, "Someday, you will find a man to love you like that, my child. And don't settle for anything less."

He smiled contentedly and finally slept.


	11. Chapter 10 A Question of Loyalty

---------------

Chapter 10

---------------

Much scanned the market for Marian, but she was nowhere in sight. As suppertime approached, the vendors began clearing their stalls and he became more worried.

"Much." He heard his name hissed from a clothmaker's stall, but it was not Marian. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword beneath his cape.

"Much."

He entered the stall to find Allan-a-Dale. "What do _you_ want?"

"Where is Robin?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"I have something for him, now where is he?"

"He is meeting Marian."

"That's a lie."

"How do you know?"

"Because she sent me."

"She sent you? To meet Robin?"

"Yeah. So where is he?"

"Well…he sent me to meet her."

The two proxies stared at one another, realising that they were, for the moment, stuck with one another.

"Why did she send you?" Much continued.

"To return this," Allan pulled out the dagger.

Much immediately recognized the weapon, Lord Locksley's dagger. He'd worn it at his side his entire life until he gave it to Robin on his deathbed. Why would Marian have it? "Is there a message?" Much asked suspiciously.

"Yea. The Sheriff and Giz have gone away on business."

"What kind of business?"

"Don't know. Somethin' to do with the Black Knights, though."

"Right."

The two men stared at one another once again.

"Well, that's it, then?" Much asked.

"Guess so." Allan said, uncomfortable beneath Much's accusatory stare.

They parted, and Allan was relieved not to have had to make up a lie about where Marian was.

---------------

Much was attempting to cook stew back at camp but was distracted. Marian knew how precious that dagger was to Robin, and if he had entrusted it to her then it must have been for good reason. After all, she could not be seen in possession of something with the Locksley symbol engraved upon it. Why would she trust such a thing to Allan?

No, something was wrong. Had the Sheriff and Gisborne taken Marian with them? Were they even gone? Perhaps their "departure" was a trap to lure Robin into the castle. "Something is wrong, Djaq," he addressed his companion.

"Oh, what?"

"I don't know, but something is not right."

"How do you know?"

"I can't explain it really. In the Holy Land, there would just be times when I knew something was not right, when I knew that Robin was in trouble."

"And you have that feeling now?"

Much nodded. Then, his answer arrived.

"A guard was found dead in the Castle yesterday morning," Will removed his axes as he came into camp. "The body is in Locksley."

Much looked to John who confirmed the statement and gave a look that said, "There's more."

Much looked back to Will.

The young carpenter was reluctant to say anything. He could not really believe it himself and there was no evidence but it just seemed so obvious. "The guard was stabbed," he stammered, "It was Sally's husband."

"I knew it!" Much looked at Djaq. "See, I told you."

But Djaq was looking to Will to see if he really believed that Robin could kill a man without imminent threat. He looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't know what to think.

They ate supper in silence, until Much spoke. "Right, tonight, we go to the castle to find out what happened."

"Without Robin?" Will asked.

The servant nodded.

Djaq defended the leader, "Much, if Robin wanted us to know what was happening he would tell us."

"No," the servant began pacing about the camp, "I am telling you that something is wrong. And don't you remember the last time he tried to keep us from knowing what he was doing?"

They all had to acknowledge that Much was right. Robin had made a mistake, attempting to end the Black Knights single-handedly, and it had nearly cost him his life. Much looked at the group, waiting for a response. They all seemed uncertain. "What if something has happened to Marian? There has to be a reason that she was not in the market today. Allan said that the Sheriff and Gisborne had left. What if they are trying to set a trap for Robin? What if they know? What if they know about Marian?"

"Surely Allan would have warned you," Djaq said in disbelief. Will nodded and concurred, but Much and John were not so easily convinced that the traitor would so easily trade sides once again.

Much put on his sword belt and grabbed his shield. "Well, _I_ am going to Nottingham tonight, even if it is alone."

Djaq spoke to the other two men, "We cannot let him go alone." She moved to get dressed. Will was not about to leave Djaq in Much's care and thus he replaced his axes in their holsters and prepared to go as well. Seeing as how John was the only one left, he joined them as well.

Much turned and was pleased to see everyone ready to go behind him. "We are Robin Hood, then?"

They all nodded and spoke together, with reticence, "We are Robin Hood."

It felt strange, to be in Nottingham _sans_ leader. The gang gathered in the shadows outside the castle gate, attempting to formulate a plan as to how to enter. The treason Allan had committed in giving away their entrances blocked many of their options. Having decided that scaling the roofs leading to the western wall was the most viable option, the gang moved in silence from the north gate to the west. But scaling the wall became unnecessary when they saw Allan, leaving the castle on horseback.

Much looked at the gang and held up two fingers, tossing them off in two different directions. They all knew what to do. Silent running in pairs, one pair shooting around the alley to get ahead of the man on horseback, the other trailing closely behind. They arrived at the city gate and to their surprise, Allan spoke. "Look, I know that you all are there. Meet me at Locksley Manor. I will clear the guard from the barn side."

Assuming it was a trap, they followed carefully, traveling in pairs separately until they met in the wood just beyond Locksley's borders. They watched as Allan exited the barn, called the two guards on that side of the house to the front of the Manor, and then looked toward the wood where he knew they would be.

They all looked at one another, puzzled, and very concerned they were walking into a trap. The crept across the yard, John and Will taking up positions along the wall, Much and Djaq using rope to hoist themselves through the rear second-story window. They stood in Robin's former room in shadows, weapons at the ready, prepared to call for backup at any moment.

Allan latched the door to the master bedroom and turned, setting his goblet on the bedside table. He stared at the plush bed and noble surroundings. "I could get used to this," he ran his fingers down the velvet curtains, "yeah."

"Enjoying yourself, Allan?" Much spat.

"I'm not being funny but, Robin must have lost his mind to give this place up."

"Well, if he hadn't then you would not be standing there, would you?"

"True enough."

Much exited the shadows and Allan was taken aback by the severity of the look on his face. After all, Much was a man of war as well, and there was no sign of humour or stupidity in his eyes. Instead they burned with loyalty. He'd played the loyal servant for nearly all his life, but more than that, he was a loyal friend, and when it came to his lifelong companion, he'd no tolerance for humour. Not when Robin or Marian might be in danger.

Allan picked up the goblet and took a good, long sip. "Look, I'm going to tell you what I know. You are not going to believe me, but I'm going to tell you."

Much lowered his sword, indicating that he was prepared to listen.

"I found Nigel on Wednesday morning, in a pool of blood, with the dagger in his side." He returned the goblet to the table. "No one else had seen the body yet, so I took the dagger out of the body and returned it to Marian."

"Robin's dagger?"

"Yeah." It dawned on him that Much suspected Robin. He turned to face him. He couldn't let that one pass by. "Robin didn't send you here, did he? I don't think he would be pleased to know that you suspect him of murder."

"I do not suspect him!"

"Bollocks."

He was gaining the upper hand with Much, but lost it when he looked across the room and saw Djaq in the shadows. Damnit, he'd just cursed in front of her. But, this was his chance, wasn't it? His chance to get back into the gang. He swore she could see right through him and was sure she would know if he was lying. So he was faced with a choice. Betray the woman who'd kept her lover from slicing his neck in madness, or stand and lie to the only woman whose opinion he'd ever cared about. Her eyes shown brightly in the candlelight and she stared at him with an honesty in her eyes that penetrated all that was left of his soul. No, he could not stand to lie in front of her. He didn't imagine that Much had enough foresight to know the effect that bringing her along would have, but it was working. "Look, just tell Robin that he needs to visit Marian as soon as possible." He paused, then added, "And he should take Djaq with him." Yes that was good. He had not betrayed Marian's secret. Robin would come and figure it out on his own. Then he would go and find Marian. Djaq could treat her. Honesty all around.

"Oh no," Much replied, "I am not about to send Robin into a trap with Marian as bait."

"What?"

"The Sheriff and Gisborne are away on business and Marian is in trouble. That's not very creative, Allan."

"I'm telling the truth, Much."

"You wouldn't know what the truth was if you were standing at the pearly gates!"

"Hey!"

"Enough!" Djaq stepped from the shadows, "You two will alert the entire manor to our presence." She looked Allan dead in the eyes and said, "It wasn't Robin."

Allan gave a small shake of the head.

"And Marian made you swear not to tell anyone."

Much was growing impatient. He moved passed Djaq, pressed Allan against the door with his shield and pointed his sword at the traitor's head. "He has been my master for a nearly a dozen years, Allan, and I have known him all my life. I have seen him through war that he might return to this place and lead the life he is supposed to lead, and that life does not exist without Marian. If something has happened to her you will tell me, _now_!"

Djaq raised a calming hand to Much's shoulder and he backed away. She bade Allan to continue with her eyes and her words he'd remembered on the battlements two days before rang in his ears. _I believe you are a good man, Allan-a-dale_.

"She left on Wednesday morning. I've no idea where she's gone."

"She's gone?" Much was beginning to imagine how in the world he was going to relay this to Robin.

Djaq was calm, "From the beginning please, Allan."

And so he proceeded to tell them the entire story, at least what he knew of it. "Look, I found Nigel on the western wall on Wednesday morning. He'd been stabbed with Robin's dagger and I found…" Allan spoke quietly, "I found the Nightwatchman's mask in the corner. So the only thing I can figure is…"

Much assembled the pieces, "…That he unmasked her and she had no choice but to kill him."

"Yeah. Except…"

"Except what?"

Allan took a deep breath and looked right at Djaq, "Except that when I found him, he was face first with the dagger in his stomach and his trousers were down." He said the last few words staring at the floor.

Djaq knew the implication immediately, "Allan?"

He nodded.

Much caught up and his eyes nearly popped from their sockets. "Are you sure?"

"Well, no, but, it was fairly obvious, I mean, I've never seen her rattled and she was _rattled_. She was flying about the room, throwing things into her satchel. I could barely speak to her because her mind was elsewhere."

"Well, did you ask her?" Much demanded.

"No!" Allan looked at the floor and spoke quietly, "How do you ask a woman that?"

Much continued to question the man, despite his obvious discomfort, "and you've no idea where she's gone."

"Look, she doesn't want him to know. She doesn't want to see him or anyone else. She told me to make up some story to tell him about where she'd gone and to do the same for Guy."

"But surely she knows that Robin will search for her?"

Allan just shrugged.

Much's stomach was sinking further and further toward the floor. How in the world was he going to tell Robin? He stood and went to the window.

"Wait," said Allan, "the guards will have returned." He went to the window, "You there! Come round the front, I've got a job for you."

Much could not bring himself to thank this man, this traitor, but Djaq thanked him with her eyes and in them Allan saw a small glimpse of hope for redemption. They were soon out the window and Allan watched as two others joined their silhouettes and they ran round the pond and into the wood.

Moments later, Much was on a horse, headed for Derby, entirely uncertain as to what Robin's reaction would be to this news.

---------------

Much donned his hood as he approached the Waxing Moon Inn. Certainly no one in Derby was going to recognize him, but he'd grown so accustomed to wearing the cover while in town that he almost felt naked without it. It was as if the hood were part of his identity as much as an appendage. He was one of Robin Hood's men, after all. Robin's primary man, actually, he liked to think, and he was here to report to the leader, though he was fairly sure that the leader would not like the report. In fact he was _certain_ that the leader would not like the report. Actually, turning around and not reporting at all seemed a better and better idea. He had seen Robin in a rage many times, mostly in battle. But this, this would…he honestly wasn't sure how Robin was going to handle this, nor was he sure how _he_ was going to handle Robin.

'_There is always a good part,'_ he said to himself. But no matter how many happy thoughts he tried to conjure from the back of his mind, he could not rid himself of the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Marian. Any man who would do such a thing was surely a monster deserving of death, but she obviously did not want Robin to know. _'She is too proud for her own good,'_ he muttered. Still, shouldn't Marian be the one to tell him? Surely, he reasoned, it was not his place to tell Robin, yet surely, Robin needed to know.

Poor Marian. He saw her as a child in braids, running through the fields, attempting to shoot Robin's bow. Little Marian. She was tempestuous and reckless, always seeking danger and adventure. He'd been amazed on their return to find that her tempestuous and reckless nature had been tamed by circumstance and replaced by what seemed to be cold calculation. And that cold calculation, he soon learned, was a tool of survival, and one that could be used to advantage. Yet she still seemed to crave the freedom she'd known in youth and the recklessness had not disappeared completely. He was certain Robin would say it hand't disappeared at all.

They were such a pair, Marian and Robin – each as stubborn as the other. He'd watched with great interest and amusement, unnoticed from the camp's fire, as they attempted to learn to live in one another's presence. As Marian struggled to deal with Robin's quirks and patterns, Much found that, for once, he had no trouble biting his tongue. He'd often thought to say, "You know, Marian, if you pump his ego just a bit, if you just let him be right once in a while, he's much easier to live with." He did genuinely want them to be happy of course, but if he was being honest, part of him delighted in their struggle. Part of him delighted in thinking that he could handle Robin better than she.

The bickering was nothing new. She and Robin had first begun truly bickering in the summer before they'd departed for the Holy Land. For their entire childhoods, they had always tried to best one another, to prove their superiority to the other. Neither ever refused a challenge from the other, and as their betrothal approached marriage, those childhood contests became verbal jabs and insults. Yet somehow, those insults only served to heighten their desire to be together, and hours after an argument had ended in stalemate he would find them in the barn or the edge of the wood, engaging in activities not befitting their station. They were both too stubborn to be the first to say, 'I love you,' but it was obvious to him, and he was jealous.

He still was. For five years he had been Robin's companion. He had been his friend, his protector, his confessor. Yet from the moment Robin laid eyes on her in the doorway of Knighton Hall their friendship seemed forgotten – tossed aside as if it were scraps for the dogs. Forever loyal, Much had followed Robin into the forest, and as long as she was in the castle, it seemed, that Robin still needed him – and not just for cooking and mending but also to listen and to help him see reason. But when she came to the forest he was, for the first time, truly cast aside as he had been that summer before the Holy Land. And he found he was unable to control his jealousy once again.

But he knew Robin. He knew things that Marian would never know. He'd seen things that Marian would never see. And he knew that Robin would want to know, and that Robin might never forgive him if he found out that his lifelong friend had withheld such information, even if it had been for the most concerned and noble of reasons. Even if it had been out of love. No, he would tell his friend this horrible news, and then he would help him through. Yes, _that_ would be the good part. He would listen and be there. He would be a friend.

Much lowered his voice, "Yes, I am looking for a man and his widowed sister, traveling with a young boy and an infant"

"They are in room six, sir. Second floor."

"My thanks." Much looked about the room. It bustled with travelers and merchants. Serving maids hurried about with trays of food and ale. And in the corner was a dark table, set off from the rest. _'That will be a good place,'_ he thought. _'Robin will not want to call attention to himself by overreacting.'_ As he ascended the stairs, he congratulated himself on his excellent idea.

He heard laughter and giggles.

"You will make an excellent father," he heard Sally say. He could feel Robin blushing through the door. He knocked. Sally opened the door and he saw Robin swinging the young boy by the arms as cries of "weeeee" rang into the corridor.

"Much!"

Focused on his mission, Much stepped past the woman into the room and immediately addressed Robin, "I need to speak with you."

Robin set the child to the floor a bit harshly and immediately dropped the smile from his face, sensing urgency in Much's tone.

"I am hungry, though." Infamy for a constantly empty stomach made for a good cover in this case. "Might we speak downstairs. I noticed a table in the corner on my way in."

Robin nodded.

Much noticed that he was biting his thumbnail as they descended the stairs and took their seats at the still empty table. This was going to be difficult. Much was silent, trying to read Robin's readiness for the information he was about to tell him.

Robin grew impatient with the silence. "Well? Did you see Marian?"

Much took a deep breath and began, "Robin before I tell you anything I want you to promise me that you are going to remain calm, that you will not act impetuously, that you will be reasonable."

"Are you going to tell me news which would cause me to be unreasonable?"

Much rocked his head up and down slowly as a small ship bobbing on the sea. Robin gave him a look of 'Out with it man!' So, he took a deep breath and began. "Robin I did not see Marian because she has run away from the castle, and no one knows where she has gone. She told Allan that she was leaving, asked him to return the dagger to you, packed her things and then left."

"Allan told you this."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Well, he came to the market to meet you, but you sent me to meet Marian, so neither one of us met who we thought we were meeting. I thought that he was trying to set a trap for you, so we followed him to Locksley that evening."

"Locksley?"

"Yes, believe it or not, Gisborne put Allan in charge while he is out on his business."

Much had expected a reaction from Robin at that statement, but he was too distracted by the news that Marian had gone.

"When did she go?"

"Wednesday morning."

"There must be a reason."

"There is." Much carefully relayed the story, leaving out the details he knew to be most upsetting.

Part way through the story, Robin began mumbling to himself, "Marian what were you thinking? Were you not careful? Why must you be so stubborn?" Robin sat back in his chair, put a bent arm behind his head and gave a sigh of exasperation, "If no one except Allan knows it was her, then why would she run? It doesn't make sense."

"She is very stubborn."

"Yes but this is not stubbornness. This is pride. She is too proud to admit that I was right." He sighed once more and dropped his hands to the table, adding quietly, "but I would so much rather be wrong."

"Well, you are often wrong, but that is beside the point. There is more."

"More?"

"Yes, but you must promise me you will not act rashly."

"Much!"

"Promise me."

"Okay, I promise, now tell me."

"Well, I was standing there, trying to figure out what would possess Marian to kill someone, even in battle. She is always so careful."

"She must have been fighting for her life."

"Yes but, the thing is," he hedged when saw the growing look of concern on his friend's face, a look that would appear only for Marian. For a moment, he lost his courage. Robin was as vulnerable right at this moment as Much had ever seen him and the news, Much thought, would surely break him. "The thing is, Allan saw Marian before she left and he said she was acting very strangely and he's fairly certain…Robin, he found the guard on his stomach with his trousers down and…I'm fairly sure…Robin I think…"

The look of dread on Robin's face revealed that he already knew what was coming. He was as white as he'd been after their first night at battle. "No…"

"I think so," Much confirmed.

Robin did not move. He did not bite his nails. He did not blink his eyes. He did not move his lips. He did not, it seemed, even care if he took a breath. He merely sat in shock. Then, Much noticed that the muscles in Robin's neck began to twitch as emotions tore at his insides and appeard on his face. He'd seen them all before. Resentment. Bewilderment. Rage. But most of all, he recognized anguish, and he knew what his lifelong friend was thinking. Why hadn't she come to the forest?

Robin pushed back his chair as a man on a mission and ascended toward the room. He stormed through the door in a manner so that Sally and even the children were immediately aware that something was terribly wrong. Robin gathered his bow and quiver. "Much, stay here with Sally and the children." The look on his face begged his lifelong companion to understand his need to be alone with his thoughts, "I'll be back in a few hours."

Much's look said that he understood and he immediately found himself taking pity on the trees of East Derbyshire Forest, soon to be riddled with arrows of frustration. He forgot that he'd left a plate full of food in the pub. He'd no appetite whatsoever.

---------------

True to his word, Robin did return. Assuming that all were sleeping as they appeared to be, he plopped himself on the floor in front of the fire, but soon found that he had company.

Much did not speak. Most of the time, silence bothered Much. In fact, he'd been the target of many a bread attack for speaking when silence was desired. But contrary to popular belief, he was capable of knowing when to be quiet when it really counted, and right now, Robin just needed to know that he was available to listen. In the most important times, it had always been this way.

He listened as his friend's not so quiet sighs transitioned to stifled sobbing. "Why Much? Why didn't she come to the forest?"

"Like you said, she is too proud for her own good."

"Pride. Is that what it is? Surely she does not question my love her. Surely she must not think that I would be…angry…with her."

"Well, you never fail to warn her of the danger, or to ask her to stop."

"Yes but, she knows it is only because…" he could not say it, still after all this time. He'd managed to say it to Marian but he certainly was not about to express it in front of any of the gang. He simply repeated, "She knows…"

But Much was not just one of his men and found that it was the perfect moment for candor. "Honestly Robin. You two deserve one another. You are so stubborn. Even after all that has happened you _still_ have difficulty saying it. Just say it, for God's sake. You need her. You love her. You cannot be without her. Just say it."

Robin laughed because he'd run through every other emotion in the last two hours, and laughter seemed to be the only one left. "It is true."

"What, that you love her or that you are both too stubborn for your own good."

"All of it." He looked at his friend, "I did say it, Much, many times. She knows." He repeated the last words again as if he was uncertain of their truth, "She knows…"

"What did you say to her, Master?"

"I warned her that even the best soldiers are caught sometimes. That no soldier charges in without backup."

Much mumbled under his breath, "except you, apparently," and was surprised when Robin did not argue but instead offered a small nod of recognition.

"I warned her that some of the Sheriff's men are large and strong and capable fighters." Robin took a deep breath to maintain control, but his voice cracked, "I…I told her that I had seen what happens to women when they are caught by soldiers, and that the thought…the thought…" He raised a hand to his forehead and stared at the floor.

He was breaking before Much's eyes. At least when Robin thought she was dead, she had died as a heroine who loved him. But the though that she would _choose_ to be without him was splitting him to pieces.

But as Robin straightened his spine and put back his shoulders, Much knew what was on his mind. "Where would she go?" the servant asked.

"I've no idea."

"She has no family left, has she?"

"Her uncle Henry's wife is still alive, I think, but neither he nor Edward found one another's choice of bride to be acceptable, so I can't imagine she'd be welcomed there. She has an aunt as well, somewhere in the south. God Much, do think she would go that far?"

"She's capable of getting there, no doubt."

"No doubt. But why? Why didn't she come?" Robin was finally overcome by his darkest thought. "Much, does she think that I would not want her? That I would care? Does she think that I would stop…" He sniffed and closed his eyes, causing the tears that had been welling in his eyes to fall down his cheeks. "Does she think that I could ever stop loving her?"

Much watched as his lifelong friend bit his lip in an attempt to control his emotions. The moment was right, it seemed, for a hand on the shoulder – a gesture of friendship and love as old as men. They sat in silence for a long while as Robin composed his thoughts. Finally, he spoke the words that Much had already anticipated, "Much, do you think that the four of you can handle being Robin Hood for a while?"

"Robin?"

"I said…"

"I heard what you said, but I'm not sure I like it."

"I am not asking if you like it. I am asking if you can handle it."

Much knew the plan already. Robin didn't even have to say it. He would find her. However long it took and wherever the journey led him, he would find her. Much pursed his lips and then popped them as he blew out his breath. He patted his friend on the back twice before offering his hand in a handshake, "We are Robin Hood."

Robin accepted the hand but then pulled his friend toward him and embraced his shoulders. "Thank you, my friend. I will purchase supplies in the morning. We will take Sally to Duffield tomorrow afternoon and I will journey from there."

"South?"

Robin nodded. South it would be.


	12. Chapter 11 Rain

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Chapter 11

---------------

The clouds bade warning when Marian left the manor, but she'd decided to come to town despite the threat of rain. Her cousins, regardless of their good intentions, were giving her a mild case of insanity with their talk of suitors and dresses and fine silks from London, and the market was alive with people smiling as they went about their daily business. She felt such a weight lifted, being here. Though there was much poverty, the people seemed happy, and both the local sheriff and William of Duffield, who controlled much of the county, were loyal to King Richard. Alas, it seemed that where Vaysey was not, happiness abounded.

The market was much larger than Nottingham's. The stalls bustled with people negotiating prices, and the shouts of vendors pushing carts filled the air.

"Lovely lettuce for a lovely lady?"

"Some sparkling jewelry to match your sparkling eyes?"

"The finest silks from the East for a fine lady of the North?"

Each salesman linked his product to her beauty, hoping that flattery would translate to buying. But Marian had only a handful of coins in her pocket with which to purchase some spring vegetables for the manor. Though she appeared a rich noblewoman, were it not for the kindness of her cousins, she'd have no place to go that did not contain a man she preferred not to see.

Robin had left Sally and Much at the inn with orders to remain until he could purchase a few supplies. He was examining a piece of cabbage when the words caught his attention, "the finest silks from the East for a fine lady of the North?" The words "silks of the East" were what first caught his attention, for none of the silks that managed to find their way to England could compare to the bright fabrics of Palestine. A fine lady of the North was worth a glance as well.

But this glance, he was certain, was the most rewarding of his life. Her back was turned, but he'd dreamed that shape so many times it was stained upon his memory, and her hair was unmistakable, long and curling at the ends.

"If you are not pleased with that cabbage, sir, I've many others."

"Pardon?"

"I said, if you are not pleased with…"

"I heard what you said," he set the vegetable down but was not paying attention and sent a few others rolling across the ground in the process. "Excuse me."

The swoop was familiar—smooth and quick. Marian knew it was him right away, but her mind would not allow it because as far as she knew, he was unaware of her location. Her heart rate quickened. It was disconcerting, simultaneously wanting to be hidden and found at the same time.

No, it could not be him. And so she did not react as she normally would, preparing for a kiss and a cheeky line. Rather she reacted as she might an attacker, twisting at the waist and snapping the back of her hand toward his face. Being intimately familiar with her fighting style, he caught her hands at the wrists and pulled her tightly to him, wrapping his arms around her.

The sight at which she was staring was surprisingly reassuring—the strings on his tunic, untied and dangling loose. Her short, shallow breaths revealed the familiar smell of the forest, and the neat, tidy world she had created for herself began to crumble. She dared not look into his eyes, eyes she'd purposefully avoided for days and yet yearned to see, for she knew that if she looked at him she would have no defense against the flood of emotions building within her.

"It's alright, My Love," she heard him whisper into her hair, "I know."

The convulsions began in the pit of her stomach but soon traveled through her chest to her shoulders. Tears fell uncontrollably now and she soon found herself pounding her fists against his chest as she attempted to push back the visions returning to the front of her mind. Finally, she let out a guttural wail and collapsed into him, allowing him to fully support her.

Robin had not heard such a sound since the battlefield. In war, he'd had much experience conflicted emotions, but never had he felt a combination so complex and yet simple. He ached to see the one he loved in so much pain and fumed at the monster who would dare commit such an act. He admired her for acting to protect herself as any soldier would and yet had never been more disappointed and angry with himself for being unable to protect her. He was proud of Marian, of the independent woman she'd become, and yet also proud, at this moment, to be the one that she needed.

Still, the simple act of holding her seemed to wash all of those complexities away.

And so they stood in an alley in Derbytown. Marian sobbed until she could sob no more, continuing to pound his chest each time an especially violent memory surfaced. Robin held her with one arm around her back and the other cradling her head against his collarbone, dipping his head so that his cheek was in her hair. Gently. he began to sway and rock, alternately whispering, "Shhh, My Love," and, "It's alright."

Marian's pounding was diminishing both in pace and intensity, and she attempted to speak. She was now using an open palm and her pounding graduated to smacks, and then thumps, and then to almost gentle pats. And each time she made the motion it was accompanied by a single word, "You." She repeated it in a steadily slowing rhythm. Thump. "You." Thump. "You."

He gathered her face in his hands and began wiping her tears, moving his fingertips to remove the hair sticking to her cheeks. Despite the fact that she had collapsed in front of him, she still managed to stand with a strength and dignity that amazed him.

Marian finally raised her eyes to find that his were filled and beginning to overflow. "You," she said again. "It can only ever be you."

The tenderness in his eyes was replaced by fury as his fears were confirmed. "Marian, did he…?"

She gently shook her head within his hands. "No," she took a deep breath and her chest shook involuntarily with the effort. She reached up and removed his hands with her own and stepped away. "He tried, but…" she took a second, calmer breath, "…but my dagger found his stomach. I mean…your dagger found his stomach." Even though she was not looking at him, she could feel the air around him suddenly fill with tension.

"It is good the bastard is dead, because I'm sure it was a much faster and less painful death than I would have granted him."

Marian found she was laughing and smiling through her tears. There was no reason for it. There was no humour in his statement. Rather, it was one of darkness—utterly malicious in nature and as disdainful as she'd ever known him to be. And she'd no doubt that he meant every word, yet, to hear him say it was somehow liberating.

Smiles soon blended into convulsions begun anew. She put hand to forehead. "Robin, I cannot remember how it happened. I checked the wall. I am certain that I checked. There was no one. And then, then there was. And in an instant, I was in my room washing his blood from my hands."

He stepped behind her and pulled her close once again, speaking softly over her shoulder. "Of course you cannot remember. That's what happens in battle. You remember the before and after…" His voice took on a faint, distant quality, "but the during only comes to you in dreams." He turned her, again taking her face as if it were the most precious and fragile object in the world. "Have they started yet, the dreams?"

She offered only a simple nod.

"Oh, My Love," he offered once more, placing gentle kisses along her hairline and returning to a gentle sway.

They fell into silence, wrapped in one another's arms. Rain began to fall and they did not move. The shouts of the vendors as they quickly cleared their stands and the _clack_ of carts as they sped past the end of the alley did not disturb them. Only the thunder alerted Robin that perhaps a change of location was in order.

That same thunder seemed to awaken Marian from a daze. She pulled back and created walls within which she could function once more.

"Robin, I must return to Chaddesden. They will be worried about me."

"Chaddesden? Is that where you've been?"

"They are my mother's second cousins."

"Please, Marian, surely you can spare a few hours. You can tell them that you were waiting for the storm to pass."

"I am perfectly capable of riding in the rain."

"I am not doubting your riding ability! I am asking you to stay. We have a room at the inn, come and wait out the storm."

"Is the gang with you?"

"Only Much. And Sally and the children."

Marian felt as if the air had been pushed from her lungs. He was not here for her. He'd not come to find her. It had been chance, mere chance. "I must go." She stepped out of the alley.

He followed her, chasing her through the now deserted market in the pouring rain. "Marian! Wait! Please!"

"Leave me alone, Robin."

He grabbed her hand and tugged, forcing her to stop. "No. Marian. I will not leave you alone. Marian, listen to me. I told Much to stop…to leave me alone…and he did." He grasped her by both her shoulders. "Marian, please, listen to me. If you do not talk about this it will kill you inside. Day by day it will bury you alive, and I will not let that happen, do you hear me?" He shook her by her shoulders and waited for her to meet his gaze, "I _will not_ let that happen to you."

"Robin, let me go." It was both an order and a pleading request.

Reluctantly, he released her shoulders and untied her horse from the post, holding the animal steady as she mounted. He placed a hand on her thigh and looked up, "I love you."

"But what if he had…"

"I would _still_ love you," he interrupted her and then backed away.

She offered only a faint smile and then kicked her horse to a gallop toward Chaddesden.

---------------

After watching her disappear Robin sprinted through the town as a child knowing his birthday cake was awaiting him. Even the sense of euphoria he'd experienced upon seeing Locksley after such a long absence did not compare. She was alive and well and she needed him. She needed him as much as he did her.

He bounded into the Inn, through the pub and up the stairs. Shouting stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Gisborne!"

Had they seen him?

"Yes, my Lord?" The exhasperated voice was unmistakable.

"They have no room," Vaysey spoke through his teeth. "Did you hear that? I am tired, and I am wet and they have NO ROOM!"

Apparently not. Robin descended the stairs and peeked from the shadows.

"Well DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, GISBORNE!"

"My Lord, I cannot make a room for you where there are none."

"Fine, fine then. I am going to sit here and eat and YOU," he stuck his nose in the other man's face, "are going to find an inn with a room."

"My Lord, it is raining."

"I don't CARE if it is raining, you find me a room and you find it now!"

Gisborne signaled to two guards to follow him. The Sheriff addressed the rest of the room. "What are you looking at?" Everyone immediately turned to their meals.

Robin quietly ascended the stairs to room number six and gave a small whistle.

Much opened the door, "Please tell me the voice that I just heard was not the voice that I think that I heard."

"It was."

"Why are the Sheriff and Gisborne in Derby?"

"I've no idea. And do you know, I think that I do not care."

"Are you alright?" Much stared at his friend. Robin's look could only be described as a combination of bewilderment and elation as he sat on the bed.

"She was in the market, Much. She is with her cousins at Chaddesden." He beamed and said again, "She was in the market."

"That is unbelievable."

"I know."

"And you are sure you didn't dream it."

"Yes. I am sure. She was in the market. I held her. I touched her. I told her I loved her."

"You are sure."

"Yes! I am sure."

Robin's attention turned to Sally, who had crossed the room and was kneeling in front of her sewing chest. She retrieved some fabric and Lady Katherine's pattern and walked to stand before Robin. She placed the fabric and pattern in his hands. "By when should I have it ready?"

Robin ran his finger across the silken, Ruby threads. The memories washed over him like the rain had a few moments before. Marian. His beautiful Marian. Her dignity. Her grace. Her sharp tongue. Her bravery. Never again, he vowed. Never again would she doubt. His thoughts were interrupted by wetness upon his hand as Sally's tears tumbled from her face. "As soon as possible," he said as he stood to meet her. He returned the fabric to her hands but gathered them in his as they grasped the shining cloth. "I am sorry, Sally." He stared into her eyes, "I am sorry…for everything."

She smiled through her tears. "You are a good man, Robin of Locksley. She is very lucky."

"I am the lucky one," Robin returned her smile, "of that I am sure."

Sally immediately spread the fabric upon the bed and began to lay out the pattern.

Robin turned to the issues at hand. "Much, the Sheriff sent Gisborne to look for a room at another inn while he dines downstairs."

Much needed no further instruction. "I will follow."

"Thank you my friend. Do you know the way to Chaddesden?"

Much nodded.

"Good. I will be there if there is anything urgent." He went to the window and disappeared onto the rooftop of the neighboring building.

Sally looked at Much, "And I thought he was besotted when they were young!"

"You have no idea." Much rolled his eyes as he opened the door and crept into the stairwell.

---------------

Though Robin wanted to see Marian as soon as possible, it was just then nearing suppertime and it would be many hours before the Manor at Chaddesden would be quiet enough for him to approach. He walked his horse much of the way, feeling as though his feet were not upon the ground, and barely noticing the warm summer rain that wet him to his skin.

The ruby gown. Edward had been so angry at Marian for wearing it. She really did look just like Lady Kate in it and despite the fact that it had been four years since his wife's death, Sir Edward, unlike his own father, had difficulty functioning as a widow. He could not stand the remembrance of his wife, let alone the idea that his daughter was old enough, and womanly enough to wear such a gown. As bold and tempestuous as her mother, Marian would hear none of it.

_Marian retreated toward her chamber but then continued past to the winding stairs that led to the Western wall. She walked along the wall, running her hand over its stones and mortar, allowing the changes in texture to distract her from her current predicament. One final set of stairs and she stood in the middle of the castle's highest turret, tilting her head to the sky and raising her arms as a bird to her sides. Although it was still warm, the night breeze was invigorating and she soon found herself beginning to spin. The midsummer sky was finally getting dark enough for just a few stars to appear and they blurred as she spun, the dizziness numbing the pain from the judgmental eyes of the nobles. Finally her eyes fell shut as she attempted to spin the world away. _

"_It was a bit cruel for you to wear that, Marian."_

_She startled and nearly tripped from dizziness before finding his arms supporting her from behind. Without turning to look at him, she released herself from his grasp and stepped to the battlements to look out over Nottinghamshire. The torches from the village parties made the hills look aflame. _

"_Cruel?"_

"_Yes. When you entered we all thought we'd seen a ghost and by the look on your father's face I'd say that you did not seek his permission to wear it."_

"_She was my mother. If she were here, she'd have given it to me to wear."_

"_But she is not here, and your father is still struggling with that."_

"_But I had good reason for wearing it."_

"_Oh?" He stepped forward so that his profile fell just inside her field of vision. "Are you sharing this reason?"_

_She wondered how it was possible for him to be so blind. Despite her anger with him, tears welled in Marian's eyes and her voice cracked when she spoke, "I wish so much that she were here. I need to know what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to be." She felt his hand on her shoulder, turning her toward him and soon found herself reflexively leaning her forehead into his chest, remembering too late that she was, in fact, still angry with him. _

"_I have an idea," he placed his hands on the sides of her face and raised it. _

_Marian did not fight the gesture and found herself staring into the depths of his eyes, almost entirely black to let in the little light that remained in the midnight sky. She had never seen his eyes like that. They were caring and sweet, completely absent their usual glint of mischief._

"_How about if you just be you?" _

_Unable to reply she simply continued to look into his eyes, finding there complete understanding. She chanced a small smile._

_Robin was enchanted as he felt her relax beneath his touch and saw her lips part into a smile. "No," he silently reminded himself, fighting his desire to kiss her. "I must treat her honorably." _

"_That's better," he returned her smile and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms completely around her and resting his chin in her hair. It would be easier not to kiss her if he wasn't looking at her._

_To Marian, the world disappeared. She could not feel the stone beneath her feet and the staring eyes of the guards were of no consequence to her. She'd wanted to enter the party as a woman, and had been dismissed as a foolish girl. With him she was neither. She was just Marian. _

_He spoke into her hair, "Why don't you go and change and I will escort you back to the party?" And make sure William of Duffield keeps his grubby hands off of you, he added in his head._

_She pulled away from his embrace, not wishing to return. It would be too embarrassing. Still, she could not fight the glimmer of excitement from the idea that he really wanted to escort her to the party. She shook her head no._

"_Okay then, how about if you go and change and then we go somewhere else?"_

"_Where?"_

"_To a different party."_

_By the way his eyes sparkled she knew he had some scheme. _

"_But I have nothing to wear. I look a child in my old dresses."_

"_What about the green one?"_

"_What green one?"_

"_You know…the green one!"_

_She shrugged and looked at him in wonder. She owned three green dresses._

"_You know… the one with the laces up the back and the scarf that hangs from the shoulders and dips at your neck." Robin blushed and quickly pulled away, realizing that he'd been tracing the outline of the dress as he spoke and that by the end of his statement, his hands were dangerously close to where they should not be. _

_Marian, meanwhile, paid no mind to where his hands were and was elated to realize that he had been paying attention to her dresses. After his recent transgressions, she did not think it possible to forgive him, but it seemed she had. It seemed she always did. Without any thought to propriety she graced him with a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to change._

"_Marian wait."_

_She turned. He said nothing. She watched as Robin trailed his eyes up and down her body._

"_Nothing," he said, but his smile gave him away. "I will meet you by the West gate." He watched as she turned and could not avoid a moment of self-indulgence. "Sweet cherry indeed," he mumbled. He looked to the heavens and made the sign of the Cross, "Sorry, Lady Katherine." He headed back to the Great Hall._

_---------------_

**A/N: So that's another chapter, and again it was written before much of the rest of the story. I had the scene in the rain pictured in my mind and had to figure out how to get them there. Additionally, the backstory was written long before the "present" parts of the story and I've been trying to weave them together in a way so that the two stories inform one another. I hope you'll agree that I've succeeded. I've really enjoyed the process of the parallel stories. **

**Also, Vasey is just fun to write. I normally despise writing in ALL CAPS, but somehow it just seems to fit the character, so I went with it despite its literary incorrectness. **

**Till next time.....**


	13. Chapter 12 My Love

**A/N – That's right! Two chapters in 24 hours, and perhaps another on the way. Hope you will enjoy.**

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Chapter 12

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The rain continued all afternoon and into the night. The thick clouds blocked all light from the sky so that one would be unaware it was raining were it not for the soft patter upon the thatch. Marian sat beneath the window in the quarters she'd been told to treat as her own. Fires were rarely required by this time in the year, but the rain had given the night a damp chill and she lighted the logs that she might dry her clothes. She stuck her arm out the window and felt the cool drops on her skin. It was good to feel, and yet it hurt. Today had been the first day she'd allowed herself to feel anything since she'd left the castle, and it had not been by choice. But there he was, holding her up, loving her in the way that only he could do. And he had not yelled and he had not said he'd told her so. He was so often thoroughly aggravating that she managed to forget the times when he lowered his defenses and stepped outside his own vanity long enough to be genuinely focused on her.

She crawled into bed and her thoughts of their meeting in the market gave her enough peace to drift to sleep, but the peace did not last long. She felt the pole of the halberd across her shoulders and then a knee in her back. She'd walked her feet up the wall in an attempt to flip and escape her attacker but he spun her and smacked her spine upon the stone of the castle wall. She relived it all… cringing as he removed her hood and mask…horror at the sound of his voice when he realised who she was. "I've never had a noblewoman before," he'd said. Terror gripped her in sleep as it had when he knelt upon her and untied his trousers. She saw an unrecognizable face, buried behind a helmet and covered in shadow, its shape blocking the glowing moon behind it…then…blind hatred as she felt his warm blood gush over her.

"Marian. Marian, wake up."

She started awake and found him smiling.

"It is very convenient, My Love, that you always seem to have a hay loft beneath your window."

She felt indescribable relief in seeing his face.

"What did you see?"

She looked at him, disoriented.

"In your dream, what did you see?"

"Robin, I…"

"Tell me. What did you see?"

She bit her lips together and shook her head.

"Marian, trust me. You _need_ to talk about this. Please."

"Oh really?" Her short temper fired. "_I_ need to talk about this? That's pretty funny coming from you." She rolled onto her side so that her back was to him.

Robin walked to the other side of the bed so that he could see her face again, but she closed her eyes and refused to look at him. She was right. He never talked. He didn't let anyone ask. And _that_ was why he knew that he could not allow her to hold it inside. He summoned his courage to help the one he loved so dearly. "You are right."

She opened her eyes in shock. Those words coming from him were rare indeed.

"I do not talk," he continued, "and so you have to trust that I know what not talking does to a person." He knelt beside the bed and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear, "Tell me about your dream."

"I see him…but all in shadow. I cannot see his face, but I can see his hands. I can _feel_ them. And when I dream, it is as if he is still touching me and I panic like I did in the moment when I realised his intentions." She bit her lip and tried to hold back the tide, but it was useless. "My chest feels like it is collapsing, and I can't breathe."

She reached out and gripped his arm. His sleeve was soaked. "Robin, you are wet through."

"Of course I am, My Love, it's raining." He brushed her cheek, "If I weren't wet, I'd be holding you by now."

Marian rose immediately and pulled the blanket from her bed. Having a task to do always helped to push the images away. It was why she had volunteered to travel to the market that day. "Here," she said, "remove your clothes and wrap yourself in this."

"Marian, I live in the forest. I am fine."

"You are not fine, you are wet, now do as I say."

He could not resist smiling, "Alright, My Love. Alright"

Marian turned her back, which was unnecessary really, but something in the situation had replaced boldness with shyness and vulnerability.

"You keep saying that."

"What?"

"My Love."

"Don't you like it?" he asked, deciding that a bare chest was fine but that undergarments were definitely necessary.

"No! I do. But it took you two years to tell me that you love me and now it rolls off your tongue with such ease and grace…and frequency."

"Well, I have many years of silence to make up for." He turned and stepped behind her, speaking into her ear and indicating that he was finished changing, "And it took me eight years."

"Eight years what?"

"It took me eight years to tell you I loved you…granted, for five of those years I wasn't _here_ to say it, but…"

Marian was quickly adding and re-adding the numbers in her head. It had been nearly two years since his return, plus five in the Holy lands made seven. She was unsure whether to be flattered or irate.

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead, "I can tell you are adding the numbers in your head, Marian, and yes…it means that I loved you before I left." He kissed her again, this time at the edge of her right eye. "I loved you when I was gone…" Another on the left cheekbone. "I loved you upon my return…" And another, this time placed gently on her lips, "And I love you now."

Magical. He had somehow managed to make her forget the nightmares that had plagued her moments before. "Damn you."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes," she gritted through her teeth, refusing to smile and trying to look as angry as possible.

"So?"

"So what?"

"I believe your motive in making me remove my wet clothing was so I could hold you."

"I was merely minding your health. I don't believe being Robin Hood has rendered you unaffected by illness and you are far too important to England to allow some silly rain to affect the outcome of history."

"Marian. Stop."

She reproached him.

"Please?" He stood with arms and blanket open.

"Dry your clothing by the fire. I will get you something warm from the kitchen."

"I'm not hungry."

"You cannot be successful in your mission if you are not properly nourished."

"My mission is _you_." He took a step.

She spat. "That's a lie. We both know you are not in Derby because of me."

"I would have been if I'd known you were here! Instead I was headed to Hampshire!"

"Hampshire?"

He finally resigned that she was not going to accept his embrace. He shuffled his bare feet. "It was the only place I could think that you had family. I didn't know where else you would go."

They stood in silence, listening to the patter on the roof and the crackle of the fire.

"So what is your mission, exactly?"

"At this moment, it's to try to figure out a way to say the right thing so that my future wife will trust me and let me hold her."

She crossed her arms and made eye contact that said his answer was not acceptable.

"Sally has family on the estates at Duffield. I knew William, once upon a time. I fought with his father. I came to request him to take her into his household as a seamstress."

"That is honorable of you."

"Did you think I had dishonorable intentions?"

"I, I…no." She took a breath. "No," she reaffirmed.

"But you were jealous anyway?"

It was irrational jealousy, the same thing she'd accused him of so many times. How was it that she could question him and yet love him so much at the same time? It had been the same upon his return. She felt such distain for him for abandoning her and yet she was drawn to him so powerfully that she cried herself to sleep for longing to go to the forest.

"Yes."

"I know how that feels. Believe me."

He opened his arms in a second attempt and there was no reticence in her acceptance.

It was not the first time in her life that she'd felt the world fall away when she was in his arms, nor was it the first time she cursed herself for feeling the need to be there. He was absent-mindedly brushing his cheek against her hair, breathing in her scent, and repeatedly kissing the top of her head.

"It scares me, Robin."

"What?" He asked, without ceasing his pattern of caresses and kisses.

"This…need that is seemingly only filled by you."

"I know. " He pulled back to look at her. "I didn't think twice, Marian. I told Much they'd have to do without me. I was going to see William today and then I _was_ headed to Hampshire. I was in the market to buy supplies."

She nodded her acceptance of his truth and they fell into silence again. Sitting by the hearth, Marian leaned her head on his shoulder and he leaned his head on hers and they spoke into the fire as if the flames might carry them across time and distance.

"Eight years?"

"Yes. Eight years."

"When?"

"The night you wore your mother's ruby gown."

"I was trying to impress you."

"It worked. I was so impressed I nearly broke my promise to your father."

"What promise?"

---------------

_Robin found his Father and Sir Edward standing at the entrance to the Great Hall. "Sir Edward, may I speak with you a moment?" He waited for Edward's nod and then added, "in private?" _

_They stepped away._

"_Robin, have you seen Marian?"_

"_Yes, she has gone to change."_

"_Good. I will have words with her when she reappears."_

"_No sir…please…she is very embarrassed and upset." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing, choosing his words carefully. "Sir Edward I know that I have given you no reason to trust me with your daughter, but I am asking you, just for tonight, to allow me to escort her away from here. She is upset about hurting you and missing Lady Katherine. Please sir, it would be better for her to get away, I think." He could see Edward beginning to speak but caught the elder man by looking directly in his eyes. "Edward, I promise you that while she is in my care no harm will come to her, from anyone… including me." _

_Sir Robert stepped forward with his arms crossed in front of his chest and stared at his son as if to say, "If you dishonor me there will be hell to pay." Robin nodded at his father, well aware of the meaning behind his father's stare, and attempting to reassure him that he would stay true to his word. Sir Robert then nodded to Edward, indicating that his son's word was as good as his own. Of course, Edward's first reaction was to say no, but something in Robin's demeanor changed his mind. There was an earnestness…a maturity he'd not seen before. With Sir Robert's assurance, he also warned Robin with his eyes but then nodded his consent._

"_Good," Robin shook the elder man's hand. "You will find her at Knighton Hall in the morning." The young lord turned away and dashed back from whence he came._

---------------

Marian pushed her lover in the shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"You!"

"Excuse me!"

"I cannot believe you baited my father with that line! You were playing politics!"

"Politics?!"

"Yes, politics. You would not have given a second thought to impropriety if not for the fact that you knew getting caught would have ramifications for your family."

"Marian!"

"Oh, come on Robin. We both know that our betrothal was political from the very start. 'Tis the way of the world. And even if I did not love you, I would still have had to marry you."

"Well aren't I lucky then?"

"Why?"

He leaned in and smiled, "Because you do love me." He moved to kiss her, but she spoke.

"And, why is that again?"

Laughter loud enough to shake the rafters erupted from deep within him, "I've no idea."

"Shhhhhh," she bade him and gave him another shove on the shoulders. "They will know you are here."

They both laughed as loudly as they dared, but then Robin seemed to fall into contemplation. He stared at their intertwined fingers and brushed the pad of his thumb along the length of hers.

"Marian, can I ask you something?"

"Why do I think I already know the question?"

"Oh?"

"You want to know if I waited for you to come home."

"Will you tell me the answer?"

"Not tonight. I'm tired and it's a long story."

"Long story? It's a simple yes or no reply."

"No, it is not. It is quite a long one and I am too tired to give it."

He nodded, stood, and offered her a hand. "Alright, then. Let's get you to bed."

"Are you staying?"

"Only until you are sleeping."

She looked at him with soulful eyes that said all the things she could not bring herself to say. _What if I start dreaming again? I need you here to wake me. _

He kissed her on the forehead. "I will stay until dawn, but I must meet Much tomorrow morning to see if there is any news from town."

"News? Are you protecting Derbyshire now, too?" she asked as she climbed beneath the covers. He slid in behind her.

"I protect all of England, Marian."

"_We_ protect all of England." She reached for his hand, resting on her hip. She pulled it in front of her and kissed it. "What news are you awaiting?"

He sighed. She did not need another burden right now, but she would be angry if he did not share with her. "The Sheriff and Gisborne are in Derby."

She stiffened. "Gisborne visited me at the castle before I left. He said that he and the Sheriff were going away on important business. What on earth are they doing in Derby? These lands are unimportant to their plans."

"Obviously something has the Prince's attention, if he sent Vasey away from Nottingham."

"I'll come into town tomorrow. Maybe I can get Gisborne to confide their plans."

"No, Marian."

She rolled on her back to face him. "Robin, I know that you don't like my relationship with Gisborne, but if I can use it to our advantage…"

He stopped her with a finger to the lips. "It may come to that, Marian. But we can do nothing until morning, so let's just sleep, okay? We will make a plan tomorrow when we have more information."

She let out a sigh that revealed just how tired she actually was. "Agreed."

"Good. Go to sleep, My Love."

She closed her eyes.

His were closed moments after.


	14. Chapter 13 A Party in Locksley

**A/N: I must say that I really enjoyed writing this backstory. I picture Marian, at 16, just on the verge of womanhood--mature, gaining confidence, but still with some of the characteristic uncertainties of a girl. I hope I've done that image of her justice in this chapter, which is almost entirely backstory. **

**There are two nods in this chapter – one to the movie The American President, which was unintentional but which I left in after discovering it because I love those lines from the dance scene in that movie (I'm sure that they were in my subconcious somewhere when I wrote it). The other is a purposeful nod to at the Bard at the end of the chapter.**

**This may be the fluffiest chapter yet, which is saying a lot for this story, but there is more angst coming, so get it while it lasts. **

**Enjoy.**

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Chapter 13

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_After changing her dress, Marian found Robin just where he said he would be, at the West Gate. But she'd not expected him to be sitting on his horse. _

"_Well…come on," he slipped his foot from the stirrup so that she might use it and offered her a hand of assistance._

"_Where is my horse?"_

"_There was not time to saddle it."_

"_What were you doing while I was changing?"_

"_I was speaking with your father."_

"_Oh."_

"_Marian, I'm not just going to take you out of the castle without telling him. I value my life."_

"_You've done it before."_

"_That was different."_

"_How?"_

"_Marian it doesn't matter. Just get on."_

"_Why don't I get my own horse?"_

_Robin let out a frustrated sigh, "Marian, if you are on your own horse then you will go riding off wherever you please, and then I will be in trouble with your father. Now come-on," he motioned again, offering his arm for the second time._

_She obliged but soon found she was self-conscious of where to place her hands._

"_Well you'd better hold on," Robin said, and kicked the horse to a canter, forcing her to grab onto him for stability. Upon feeling her arms securely around his chest, he urged the horse into a full gallop and was delighted to hear Marian giggling behind him. _

_They raced across the fields at full tilt, Robin paying careful attention to the trail and the feel of the horse, ensuring as safe and smooth a ride as possible. He pulled the reins back swiftly and spun the horse once before coming to a stop atop of the hill outside Locksley. He lifted his right leg, bent his knee and rested it on the horse's neck in front of him so that he could turn to see her. The twist in her hair, which he was certain she'd worked hard to produce, had slid halfway down her neck and loose strands of hair dangled about her face. He smirked. _

"_What?"_

"_Nothing. Your hair, it's…" He paused and reached out to tuck the stray strands from her face behind her ear but instead removed the pin from the top and watched in awe as the soft brown curls fell to her shoulders. "There. Much better. We couldn't have the villagers seeing you like that, now could we?"_

_There was something in the way he'd said it, as if they were his villagers…as if they were her villagers. Her mind spun momentarily as she allowed the implication of his statement to settle. "The villagers?"_

"_Yes. Where did you think we were going, Marian?"_

_She looked to the bottom of the hill and saw Locksley ablaze with torches and alive with the laughter of singing and dancing. _

_Robin swung his leg back over the horse and trotted down the hill to the stables, offering Marian an arm down before dismounting. He unbuckled the saddle and noticed that Marian started assisting, removing the horse's reigns and bridle and speaking to the animal softly as she did so. He watched her, finding that the elegance with which executed her actions was mesmerising. _

_Marian was aware that Robin was once again staring at her. She purposefully avoided his gaze, speaking instead to the animal, "Why is he staring at me, eh?" _

_Robin shifted uncomfortably, "He is wondering if you are ready to go to the party."_

"_Did you hear that?" she continued talking to the horse, "There actually is a party. And here I thought he was just trying to find an excuse to get me to ride with him." Without a backward glance she headed out of the stables to where the villagers were gathered._

_Robin ran to catch up with her. 'Oh my,' he thought, 'this is going to be an interesting night.' _

_Locksley village was alive with inebriated merriment. The peasants had placed a large spit in the center of the village and upon it hung the finest hog to be found, which Sir Robert had ordered slaughtered for the occasion. The party had commenced several hours before and by this time, the line of revelers singing and dancing their way through the village was twenty strong. Among the few sitting were Dan Scarlett and his young son Luke, who had played himself tired and was now sleeping at his father's feet. His wife Jane and their older son, William, were among those dancing. Dan watched them, simultaneously displaying the loving stare of a husband and the proud smile of a father._

_Robin caught up with Marian and grabbed her hand, stopping her momentarily. He bent his left arm and slid her hand through. Marian, realising that it would be more proper for him to escort her into his own village, allowed him to do so and stepped off with him around the end of the pond. They came first upon Thornton and his wife Ruth, who were tending what remained of the roast pork. _

_Upon seeing Robin with the Lady Marian, Thornton immediately stood and wiped the juices on the cloth that hung from his belt. "Master Robin," his voice and his face showed his surprise._

_The singing and dancing had stopped and all eyes were turned toward Robin. _

"_Robin," Marian whispered to the side, trying to hide the fact that she was talking, "why are they staring at you? It is not as though it is strange for you to be in the village."_

"_They are not staring at me," he whispered back, dipping his head toward her ear. "They are staring at you." _

_Suddenly self-conscious Marian checked her posture to ensure it was as lady-like as possible, but behind the façade she felt as if she were a tortoise, unable to pull its head inside its shell. _

_Thornton and Ruth shared a subtle smile of recognition. _

"_Well, carry on!" Robin announced, "We are just here to join the party."_

_The sounds of reveling soon resumed and Marian was immediately more comfortable. _

"_Lady Marian, how lovely of you to join us this evening," Ruth smiled at her, sensing her discomfort. _

"_Thank you, Ruth."_

"_Have you eaten?"_

"_No," Marian suddenly realised that she'd not had a meal all day._

"_Well, why don't you go and sit and I will prepare a plate for you."_

"_Thank you, Ruth." She turned to Robin, who began to step off to where the Scarlett family was sitting; but the revelers, who had woven the line in their direction and were now passing between them and their destination, impeded their progress. A string of "my lord" could be heard as each member of the line offered a nod of recognition as they passed. At the end of the line, Sally stopped momentarily in front of them and instead recognised Marian. "Milady!" She grabbed Marian's hand and Marian soon found herself among the revelers. She lifted her skirt and hopped and skipped, twirling in and out of the people about her. _

_Robin watched her from a distance, finding a seat next to Dan Scarlett and his young son, William. _

"_Good evening, Dan."_

"_Master Robin."_

"_The villagers of Locksley certainly know how to throw a celebration."_

"_Yes, though it helps that Lord Locksley has provided a pig and enough ale for the occasion." He paused and then added, "Might I ask, Robin, why you are not at the castle this evening?"_

"_The castle, my friend, is full of drunken nobles talking politics, trading lands, and discussing noblewomen as if they are trollops. Here, life is simple – family, good friends…"_

"…_And fine ale."_

_Robin turned from Dan to find Thomas, the cooper, extending a jug. "Thank you, my friend." He gladly accepted and took a gulp before passing the libations to Dan, "I shall have to thank my Father, that is fine ale indeed." _

_Dan took a sip as well and passed the jug back to Tom, an action that caused eleven-year-old William to cross his arms and pout. _

_Seeing this, Robin spoke, "Will, why are you not dancing?"_

"_I was dancing with mother before but she went to put Luke to sleep."_

_Robin motioned for the boy to come and stand in front of him. "I'll bet that Lady Marian would dance with you, if you asked her nicely."_

_The boy smiled._

_Robin urged him on, "Go on, ask her."_

"_Only with your permission sir."_

_Robin ruffled the young lad's hair, "William, I think you'll find that Lady Marian does not need my permission for anything and she certainly does not seek it. Go on." Robin turned to Dan, "He is a good lad, and learning quickly, from what I hear."_

"_Yes, yes, he will make a fine carpenter one day."_

_The two men followed Will with their eyes as he crossed to where Sally and Marian were dancing. _

_The jug of ale was now in Sally's hands. She leaned her head back and put the jug to her lips, gulping the libations and then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Without much thought, Marian grabbed the jug from Sally's hands and followed suit, but she only got half a mouthful before the foul liquid burned her throat and she lowered the jug in a fit of coughing. She looked up to see Robin sitting around the fire with Dan Scarlett, laughing at her. Apparently his concern for her welfare did not extend to preventing her from choking on dreadful ale. Suddenly she found young William before her. She attempted to compose herself._

"_Lady Marian?"_

"_Hello, William."_

"_Robin said that you would dance with me if I asked nicely." He bowed to her._

"_Oh did he?" She narrowed her eyes at Robin, who attempted to look serious but found himself unable to do so and instead shrugged and offered the mischievous smile that she hated and loved. Marian was certain that Robin would do just about anything to get out of dancing. "I would be honored," she offered Will her hand. _

_---------------_

_As was tradition on midsummer's eve, everyone in the village had intended to stay awake until the sunrise. But as the night dragged on, the line of revelers got smaller and smaller as more and more villagers slumped into the grass asleep. Marian soon plopped herself down beside her betrothed in front of the Scarlett hut._

"_Ruth mentioned something about food."_

_Robin held out the plate that the woman had delivered for her. _

"_Thank you."_

"_You're welcome," he winked at her. _

_She pulled at the meat, which was so tender that it fell into pieces in her hand, "This is better than the food at the castle. Much will be sorry he missed it." She let out a small giggle._

_All Robin could do was stare. What was wrong with him? Why was wathing her pick at meat so inviting? _

_Marian also stared, but at her plate. She could feel his eyes on her...again. As she was contemplating whether or not to look up at him, two bare feet came into her field of vision and she looked up to find Sally with the jug of ale pressed to her lips. She took a long sip and then held the jug out to Marian. _

_Robin raised his eyebrows at her, having seen her struggle to drink the ale the first time. But Marian would not grant him the satisfaction of seeing her spit it out again. She downed two giant gulps without so much as a wince, though her stomach nearly wretched at the presence of the foul liquid. Robin was still staring at her, so she went for a third but he whisked the jug from her hands. _

"_Oh no," he shook his finger. "No no no no no."_

"_Oh let the girl have some fun, Robin." _

"_The __lady__," he emphasised the word as he stood, "is my guest and you will address her accordingly."_

_Marian nearly dropped her plate to the ground in shock at him. _

_But Sally was not about to let him get away with casting her aside. She leaned into him, her balance unsteady, in a way that Marian was certain was entirely inappropriate. She whispered, but Marian heard, "I suppose the title does not matter, as long as she is willing." _

_And with that, Robin pulled the woman by the arm across the field. An argument ensued. Only bits and pieces could be heard, but all could be seen. Sally would run a hand down his arm or push herself into him, in reaction to which Robin would remove the hand or push her away. Then Robin could be seen pointing a finger at her and then pointing at her family's home. It finally ended with Sally trapesing across the field and turning to raise the jug at him, "Robin of Locksley, I do declare you are besotted."_

_Marian watched him disappear into the manor and was quite unsure of what to do with herself. _

_Moments later, a summer daisy appeared before her as he pointed over her shoulder at the horizon, "Look, the sunrise." Then he stood before her and offered her a hand. "Come, I will take you home."_

"_But I want to watch the sunrise."_

"_We will," he smiled_

"_Aren't we taking the horse?" she asked as they passed the barn._

"_No, let's walk." He turned and continued in the direction of Knighton hall and she took a few running steps to catch up. _

_They stopped at the top of the hill above Knighton, both realizing that their time together was ending and neither wanting it to be so. Marian found that ale had emboldened her. "Robin, I have something to say to you." He started to interrupt. She raised a finger, "Please, let me speak."_

_He nodded._

"_Thank you. I was dreading returning to that party this evening, and yet I felt unable to leave the castle, not wishing to worsen the situation with my father. You helped me and I am grateful."_

"_I always try to help a friend in need."_

"_Friend?"_

"_Yes, we have always been friends, have we not?"_

"_Yes. Yes, we have. And you, Robin of Locksley, have never asked me to be something that I am not. You ride with me and run through the forest and teach me to shoot when other men would have me sit and embroider pillows." She stopped walking and turned to him, "And so I am asking you to stop pretending."_

_Robin found that he could not look at her, instead he pulled his hand from hers and placed it on his hip, turning to see Knighton Hall in the distance. She seemed to think that he was ignoring her when in fact he was certain that if he looked at her he would be forced to break his promise to Edward. _

"_Robin, please," she pleaded from behind him. "Stop pretending things are as they were when we were children when we both know they are not." She joined him at the crest of the hill overlooking her village. "I know that you think I am young and innocent and know little about the ways of this world. My father has tried to keep it that way, I suppose. But a girl does not live her life in the castle hearing the loose tongues of servants and washerwomen and not learn something of the ways of men. I am very well aware that men are not expected to have virtue intact as a lady is, and am also very well aware that yours is not. I am not expecting you to deny it, and as I apparently have no choice but to do so, I am willing to accept it, provided it does not happen any longer. But please stop treating me as a child so that we can move beyond whatever this awkwardness is between us and onto whatever is next." _

_There was a long silence as Marian waited for his reply and Robin tried to figure out what to say. She was a lady, no doubt, and an intelligent one at that._

"_Marian, if I kissed you, would it harm you?"_

_Her breath caught in her lungs momentarily._

"_Marian?" he slowly crept toward her._

_She swallowed hard and found she was unable to breathe when he slid his hand about her waist. Is this what was next? Her voice trembled a bit, "Well, no, I suppose not." _

"_Good, because I promised your father that if he allowed me to take you for the evening no harm would come to you." His lips were now tantalizingly close and she felt his breath on her cheeks as he spoke._

"_And do you always keep your promises?"_

"_MmHmm."_

_This last response was breathed from his lungs into hers as he gently laid his lips upon hers and caressed them with a soft sweetness that spoke volumes. This was the type of kiss a man gave to a woman, not a boy to a girl. Marian was swept into the moment, unsure of what to do. She was not unwise to the world, but that didn't mean that she was experienced. She found herself frozen and remained still with her eyes closed long after he'd stopped. _

"_Marian, you act as though I've never kissed you before."_

"_Not like that," she whispered upon exhale and opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with the genuine look he'd posessed earlier on the castle wall._

"_No," he smiled. "Not like that." _

"_Robin?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Do it again." _

"_Do what again? I have no idea what you are talking about."_

"_You promised to stop treating me as a child."_

"_And I have."_

"_No you haven't, you are teasing me, and you always keep your promises, remember?"_

"_Marian, this is hardly childish teasing."_

"_Hardly." _

_Robin once again pressed his lips to hers, this time with more vigor than the first and was delighted when Marian opened her mouth a bit and moved with an eagerness equaling his. His instinct was to wrap his arms around her and deepen the kiss but he dared not. He'd made a promise he had to keep. _

_He pulled away. "Did you have a good time tonight?"_

_She nodded and smiled, "Yes, thank you."_

"_Good, go inside to bed. You father will be here in the morning."_

"_But."_

"_Go," he winked. _

_She turned and skipped inside, exposing a flash of the child remaining within her. _

_Robin was glad for the moment to himself. This promise, he feared, was going to be difficult to keep. _

--------------

"Marian? Marian, are you awake?"

The lovers immediately sat up in bed and scrambled about the room.

Marian spoke through the door. "Yes, I am awake, though I am not yet decent." She motioned to Robin to hurry as he donned his boots.

"May I come in? I've fresh clothing for you so that you do not have to wear your dress that was soaked with rain."

"Just a moment," She called, then hissed at Robin who was slipping on his quiver. "Go!"

He, meanwhile, seemed to think that the whole incident was outrageously funny and choked back his laughter so as not to give away his presence.

"Marian?"

"Anon, Auntie Ellen." She ran across the room and began pusing Robin out the window. "Go!"

"Not yet. Promise me you will not come into town."

She gave him a look that said she did not like being excluded. They'd had this argument so many times. She thought it had been resolved. This time, though, her reasons were different. "Robin. I want to see Sally. I should be the one to tell her. Nigel's death, despite any actions on his part to warrant it, is on my hands. She should hear it from me."

"I will send her to you. Please, trust me. I don't want to worry about you today. I won't exclude you, I promise, just, please, don't do anything on your own."

"Marian?" Auntie Ellen again.

"I'll be right there!" She turned to her lover, remaining suspicious. "You won't go after the Sheriff and Gisborne without telling me?"

"No, I promise."

She nodded and crossed the room to open the door to her Aunt, but her body turned back of its own accord.

"Robin!" she offered in a shouted whisper. But he was gone. She could attribute it to his magical disapearing powers, but assumed he was hiding in the stables below, waiting for an opportunity to slink across the field to the forest unseen. "I love you," she said as loudly as she dared.

His response was an arrow to the windowframe.


End file.
